When the Man Comes Around
by Zafona
Summary: In Dean's attempt to escape an abusive boyfriend he meets a soldier named Castiel. They hit it off great but a toxic breakout cuts their romance short. Scientists, zombie-like-mutants, soldiers, and our favourite Winchester brothers. Please R&R
1. Chapter 1

**_Author's Note:_ For those who read my other stuff, I am not stopping my other stories. Also, you'll note that this isn't entirely my style. I'm co-writing with another writer on : Touta Matsuda. This is another of our stories (just like New Weapons, New problems just in a different format) So please enjoy :)**

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><p>Dean Winchester was walking down the street back to where he had parked the Impala. It was one of the few things that his father had left him before passing away, and it was also one of the few things that he would never sell for money to get out of his life situation. It had been a couple years since things started going downhill; Sam went off to college straight out of high school with a student bursary that would make your head spin. When he left, no one heard from him again. Sam had never liked being part of a small, blue collar family. He always aspired to bigger and better things. Dad's old military style was just a stifling thing for Sammy, an old fashioned way of thinking that needed to be done away with. Dean respected his old man's life philosophies, but that didn't help him now.<p>

It was just after three a.m., and Dean had finished his shift at the local bar. Bartending was a lot of fun, especially when you doubled as security. Dean was in it for the money, he could do the work, and the tips were nice. The problem was he never saw much of those tips, or any of the rest of his income, for that matter. Every cent he had went to Jake. Back when Dean still owned his Dad's repair shop it wasn't so bad, keeping up with Jake's "expenses." But the deeper he got into the stuff, the worse the troubles and the bigger the bills. It took a lot of convincing –not all of it civil – to get Dean to sell the shop to pay off Jake's loan shark. With his debts clear, Dean had begged him to quit with all of it, but that just earned him a black eye and a broken rib.

Dean reminisced about the time he met Jake while he climbed into his car, a nice guy from the military reserves. Dean supposed he saw some of his father in Jake. The guy was built and strong, he carried an air of authority with him. No one messed with Jake, not to mention he had the nicest car. Before they started going out Dean loved to work on Jake's car when he brought it into the shop. Dean hadn't known at the time the reasons why no one messed with Jake. Jake's aggression and confidence was a real turn on for Dean, and when they got into a bit of a fight over a repair bill, it ended in a passionate outbreak of rough sex on top of the car. It was only later that Dean learned about the steroids and the cocaine. Back then their relationship revolved around sex, spontaneity, and a good time.

Things were different now and everyday was the same, Dean knew when he got home it would be another fight.

Dean pulled up to their ghetto looking house downtown and parked the Impala on the street –the drive was for Jake's car only. Collecting his tip money and counting it on his walk up to the front door, Dean cringed at the total: $325. That was not good enough, not for Jake. Dean remembered when he started putting some of the tip money aside as an escape fund, that maybe he could get out of this vicious cycle. That had been a bad idea. Ever since then Jake suspected Dean of skimping on the money, and even when Dean was honest and handed it over, it wasn't good enough. It never would be.

"Here," Dean dropped to envelope on the coffee table next to Jake on the couch. "I'm going to have a shower."

"How much is it?" Jake asked, not even bothering to pick it up and count it.

"It's three twenty five, it was a slow night." Dean hung his jacket on the back of a chair in the kitchen and started down the hall to the bedroom.

"A slow night?" Jake asked sceptically, getting up off the couch.

"Yeah, it was-"

"Bullshit!" Jake punched Dean in the stomach hard, catching him off guard. "There ain't no such thing as a slow Friday night. What'd you do with the rest of it?"

Dean dropped to the floor and held his stomach, "There is no 'rest of it' Jake, that's it. I swear it." Dean started pulling himself back up when Jake punched him in the back of the head and dropped him again.

"Dean baby, you know better than to lie to me."

"I'm not lying," Dean grit his teeth, debating on his next course of action. He was still sore from last night, and fighting back now would just get ugly.

But Jake was not giving up without a fight. He pulled Dean back up to his feet and pushed him up against the wall. "Well then if the rest of it just magically disappeared, than I suppose you'll have to work off the difference then won't you? You little whore." With a bit of rough manoeuvring, Jake had Dean's clothes on the floor and Dean chest down on the table.

"Jake don't," Dean's voice was going on pleading. He liked it rough once in a while, sure, but this was far different, and unfortunately it was becoming far more common as of late.

"I didn't hear a 'please,' you thieving bitch," Jake proceeded to enter Dean's unprepared anus dry and hard. His motions were relentless and self-satisfying, and all the begging in the world wouldn't get him off. Dean knew, he tried.

Jake wasn't interested in prolonged activities with Dean, not today anyway. He got what he wanted and left him on the kitchen floor before returning to the living room. Dean pulled himself together, physically shaking from the pain, anger, and fear. Grabbing his discarded clothes, he walked to the bathroom and ran a hot bath for himself. The hot water stung when he slipped into the tub. He closed his eyes and tried to forget his life.

The front door slammed and Dean woke up with a start. When had he fallen asleep? Did Jake have someone over or was he going out? Dean pulled himself out of the tub and pulled the plug. Drying off, he pulled on a bath robe and peered out of the bathroom down the hall. The house sounded quiet. Dean walked to their bedroom and collapsed on the bed. He pulled out his phone and started scrolling through his contact list. Dad's cell number was still in there, even though it had been long disconnected. Dean neared the bottom of the list and left the highlight on Sam's name. That number must be three years old by now, what were the chances he even kept it.

Dean hit the talk button in a moment of sad desperation and listened to two rings before realizing it was past 4 am. He quickly hung up.

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><p>Sam had been in college for a while now; he hadn't kept in contact with his family, namely Dean, at all. He had been doing great, straight A's, full rides, nothing seemed to be in his way anymore. At least, aside from the nagging piece in his brain that screamed at him to go back. But that was alright, he had bound and gagged that bit of brain and tossed it to the side. He hadn't thought of his brother in forever, once in a while there were signs that Dean was doing poorly but he chose to ignore them.<p>

Sam had been up studying for his final exam, the last one of his college career. He leaned back; a long and tired sigh escaped him as he stretched his arms. He'd been in this chair all day, he was sure of it. The pages in front of him started to blur together, he wasn't even sure there were really words on them anymore.

The tall man dragged himself from his work chair and desk; he could feel kinks in his shoulders and neck from being hunched over for too long. Continuing to stretch, he walked to his bed and flopped onto his face. The pillow was so inviting, he could hardly keep himself from falling into one of those deep sleeps. He knew that he didn't have time for a full night's rest; his exam was tomorrow in the afternoon, something he was very grateful for. However, he wasn't entirely comfortable with his knowledge of the material.

A nagging feeling hauled his tired ass out of bed again, this time he dragged himself back to the desk. He looked at the clock next to the pile of papers and saw that it had already been two hours since he'd dropped himself into his bed. His eyes squinted in confusion, picking up his cell phone to see if maybe his desk clock had been lying to him.

Sure enough, it was now four am, and he had _just _missed a call. Sam checked the display and saw Dean's name there, a name he hadn't expected to see, a name he hadn't seen in years. "Dean?" He mumbled to no one but himself, trying to make sense of what he was seeing.

The student behind his skull overpowered everything else at that moment; Dean could wait, whatever it was. There's an upcoming exam, an important one, which needs to be studied for. He put the phone away from his sight and started studying again, he would check on Dean tomorrow, after his exam.

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><p>"I can't stay here," Dean said aloud to the empty room. He painfully dragged himself off the bed and got dressed. Grabbing his jacket from the kitchen, he walked out the door and climbed into the Impala. He sat there for a good ten minutes, not sure where to go. It was almost five am, where the hell could he go? He laughed at the thought of an old 50s diner late at night, a stranger rolling through town grabbing a bite to eat or a detective looking for leads on a case.<p>

Thinking about the diner lead to one conclusion: Dean needed a burger. He started the car and went to the 24 hour diner on the north side of town called Charlie's. He parked outside the front doors of the retro looking restaurant and climbed out. Inside the restaurant was a bar with a bunch of stools lining it, and some old looking dining booths along the front windows.

Dean tentatively sat down on one of the stools, being careful of how he was distributing his weight. Everything hurt, but at least he'd get that burger. "One bacon cheeseburger, please," then he added, "oh, and a slice of apple pie, if you have."

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><p>It had been a long night, Castiel had been on the move since early that morning already and it was almost 5am now, which meant he'd been up for about 24 hours without sleep, again. The new project they had him working on was starting to become a pain in the ass. He thought back about horror movies and the way they always ended up saying 'the government experimented on blah blah blah...' and realized that it wasn't just a cliché, it really did happen.<p>

He had been finishing up his duties at the army's temporary base in this region and really stopped to consider what they were doing. Most people would say it was wrong, inhumane, crazy and even evil. The question he had to ask himself was what did he think of it? Sure, a lot of people disagreed with genetic mutations and experiments on them, but he wasn't sure if he was one of them. Just following orders, something he was good at. At what point did he need to stop listening to the commands coming from above him and start making his own decisions about this? From what he'd seen that day he already saw a landslide of shit coming their way, no doubt about it. And of course the superiors had called the military in as a precaution.

Precaution, what a load of crap that was. A precaution for something like this would be to correct the mistakes you make immediately, not let them fester and grow into the monstrosities they had locked up in cages. Not to mention the toxic gases those things made, it was enough to make a man lose his mind if his body didn't carry a natural immunity to it. No, the army wasn't a precaution; they were the government's first line of defence.

It was five in the morning and he'd been working his ass off all day long, it was time for something to eat. He pulled up to a small diner named _Charlie's_, figuring that if it was open it was good enough for him. As he hopped out of his old pickup truck he decided it was probably better to not walk in wearing all of his gear. He took off the unneeded layers and placed in the passenger seat, tossing the keys in his pocket and locking the doors. Stepping back from it he couldn't help but laugh at himself, he drove an ocean blue, 1963 Chevy pickup, was he trying to spend a fortune in gas? Probably. But it was just such a damn pretty truck.

His eyes shifted to the Impala and he gave a low whistle, "Someone here has nice taste," he smirked and headed inside. Cas flinched at the sound his boots made on now obviously old wooden floor. Part of him wondered how secure it was as he passed over it.

His eyes scanned the nearly dead restaurant, one person behind the counter, he guessed one person was in the kitchen, and one guy was sitting at the counter. Considering where the car was parked, he guessed the beauty outside belonged to the leather wearing man there. Cas shrugged and dropped himself on the stool next to Dean and looked up at the server, "I don't know what he's having, but I'll take one of those too."

He looked at Dean and grinned, "Hope you don't mind my copying you, I saw your car parked outside and figured you had good taste."


	2. Chapter 2

Dean sat with his head stooped low, disgusted with himself and his life. He wasn't sure what the worst of it was; the beatings and berating, the using and hatred, the rape... All those things were physical goings on, he heard the words and took the beatings, took Jake's anger and malevolence up the ass, fought screams of agony and tears of pain because the only thing those got him was worse pain.

"_I'll give you something to scream about."_

Dean shuddered. What was worse than all that? The emotional toll he let it have on him. Getting punched in the face is nothing if you turn around and punch them right back. You've proven that you can defend yourself, that punching you was a bad idea, and all those other self fulfilling thoughts that come with an act of defiance. By now Dean had himself well trained not to hit back, not to even want to hit back. He was so emotionally involved with this man, this man who didn't give a flying fuck about anything or anyone that it hurt. All of Dean's heart was open to this abusive lover of his, and every character assaulting comment, every integrity destroying insult, Dean allowed to sink in. And they sunk in deep. What was he worth? Nothing. Jake was the only person in his life who mattered, now that dad was dead and Sam was never coming back for him. The only person in his life was his only source of feed back as to who he was as a person.

"_You're worthless, you know that? Absolutely useless!" ... "What the hell is wrong wit' you?" ... "Can you do anything right?" ... "C'mere you little bitch, you're gonna pay for that." ... "Quit crying you whiney shit, you hoping your mom's gonna come give you a cookie or something?" ... "What, you're looking for approval? Oh, you are! I'll show you my approval... just as soon as you bend over..."_

Dean's eyes were already puffy from crying to himself in that lonely diner. He should've just taken a booth, in the corner and out of the way. But goddamn it he wanted someone to know! No one knew, not a thing. Not how all those words that should've been caring, loving, even remotely affectionate tore him apart. No one knew how his heart was more battered and broken than his body ever had been. For Jake, it was all about the drugs, and Dean wasn't sure if it had ever been anything more. That man was so hyped up on his steroids emotions didn't even seem to exist.

'_But why should others know? I deserve it, why the hell would they step in? I'm never going to be anywhere else, meet anyone else. I'm staying right where I belong... Or maybe it would be better if I just didn't stay, not here not anywhere.'_

The rumble of a familiar sounding engine pulled Dean out of his downward spiralling thoughts. _'Dad?'_ He thought desperately, for just a second. It was a Chevy truck, his dad used to drive one of those after passing the Impala off to Dean. The man apparently had a thing for Chevy's, but every good mechanic has their choice in vehicle. Dean looked out the window at the truck, curious as to who the driver was. He figured it was really none of his business, and turned back to the counter top.

Dean could hear the clear announcement of arrival from the man's boots alone. The sound reminded him of his father, those footsteps sounded strong. Better yet, they sounded like they weren't trying to sound that way. Someone with a temperament of consideration, and little desire to impose on others with his strength. Dean laughed bitterly to himself, what, so now he was an expert on people's footwear and how it reflected their personality?

The man strode up to the counter and sat himself next to Dean.** "Hope you don't mind my copying you, I saw your car parked outside and figured you had good taste."**

Dean laughed, "I special ordered tofu burgers to save those poor farm animals." Dean turned to look at Cas, and swallowed hard. He was evidently military, a little dressed down, but there was no denying or hiding it. That just made the tofu funnier, if there's anything Dean knew about military it was the fact that they liked their meat, didn't like the vegans, and were definitely homophobic. "Point is," Dean clarified, "You don't want to bet your meal on a hunch that guys with nice cars have great taste in diner food."

Cas' eyes lit up and he started to laugh, by the look of the man's hunched back he had expected Dean to be very dismal. Of course the comment didn't really count as being cheery, but Cas hadn't expected a joke like that. Caught unawares, he laughed rather loudly, he'd never been one to hold back, really. He wiped his eyes, tears of laughter having welled up there. "You have a point there," he chuckled again, "Though I figured I could trust my gut feeling on this one, it usually gets me what I'm looking for."

Cas was a man who believed in other-worldly luck, creatures, you name it. He figured that he should at least have an open mind about things, being so closed off didn't get anyone anywhere. Hell, at least his open-mindedness had gotten him through the most interesting parts of his life. When it came down to it, if he were going to trust his own abilities in an impossible situation to get him through, part of his faith would be that some kind of luck would be on his side.

"Yeah, my gut feeling hasn't steered me wrong yet, not about to start distrusting it." He watched the door to the kitchen intently, he could smell some kind of meat cooking and he was enjoying the scent.

Dean laughed bitterly, "Yeah well, my guts have steered me in all the wrong directions." Dean thought about his current predicament with Jake, and every other wrong turn that had resulted since then. "Huh, or maybe that was something just lower than my gut." Dean was trying hard to keep up a mask, a rough and tumble, just some guy in a diner mask. He could be that tough guy if he wanted, that crude, joking, careless person who said whatever they felt like at the time, simply because they wanted to. The tofu joke went over well, that rumbling laugh wasn't something Dean expected.

This military guy was obviously something; Dean had a lot of respect for the military because of his dad. Even so, he wasn't that tall, and with only half his gear on, Dean could tell he wasn't too, too big. But that was one hell of a voice. The guy could probably shatter glass with that. Dean admired everything about Cas so far: his job, his truck, his respect for nice cars, his appearance... Dean took a moment to take Cas in. He was rocking the stubble and had the brightest blue eyes Dean had ever seen. The damn things were sparkling, like they were some sort of precious gem.

Cas nodded his head, "Thinking with your dick, you mean." He knew some people weren't that inclined to actually speak the words, though he wasn't shy about it. "I've gotten into some trouble with that before," he paused for a moment, thinking back on an old situation he'd been stuck in. A soft chuckle escaped him, "When I was overseas I was caught with a woman I believed was hooker," he looked over at Dean with a grin, "Turns out she was the daughter of the governor we were there to make peace with, my superior was pissed with me." He laughed again, rubbing his temples, "Oh grief that was a good time though."

After a moment of pause, Dean shrugged, "Well your gut sat you right next to me in some random diner, so what is it you're after, that you will most surely get?" The way Cas had worded the 'usually gets me what I'm looking for' line made Dean think that he was possibly after something. The more cynical, self defeating part of his mind kicked it into gear and filled in the blanks, _'Duh, he wants a freaking burger. What did you think he was after, you? Get over yourself.'_

"Nevermind that," Dean tried to dismiss the question he phrased. Backtracking was a lot easier when you monitored what you were going to say before saying it.

"No, no, no, not nevermind. You asked a question you want an answer to, don't chicken out because you're scared of what I'll think or say." He turned his head to look at Dean, a hint of annoyance in his face, "I'm gonna answer you anyway;" he adjusted his sitting position to get more comfortable, leaning over, closer to Dean, "What I think I'm after I get once in a while, a deeper want, a deeper need is what I end up with from the strong gut feelings. So I sat here with the intent on having a good meal, based on your decision. I could get just about anything from it, I have no idea." He wasn't quite sure what Dean wanted to hear from him, but he figured that his response was good enough.

"That's a nice truck you have there," Dean looked back out the window to the truck parked next to the Imapala. "I know there are no trucks like that in town. I used to run one of the best repair shops, and I know cars. Where are you from?" Dean was more than a little grateful for the interruption. This stranger gave him someone to talk to, at least for a little bit. He didn't have to think about anything, not Jake, not money, not family, and not about being raped just a few hours earlier.

"Yeah, she is pretty." Cas smiled over at Dean, his almost impossibly white teeth showing, "I jacked up the wheels a little bit and tinkered with the engine. She's an off-roading vehicle I use for work," he nodded toward it, "I can show you later, if you wanted. Anyway you're right; I'm not from around here." He took note on Dean's memory, for someone to know all the vehicles in his town, that's pretty good.

"I noticed you did a bit of work on her," Dean commented on Cas' truck. "My dad had his old Chevy jacked up too. He hated having a low ride, said it was for useless city kids." Dean laughed, remembering his father's oh so military disposition toward everything. If it wasn't military, it was old school and small town mentality. Dean sorely missed the man. "I'd love to see it," Dean replied quickly and in earnest. What he'd give to work on that truck!

'_Whoa, whoa, whoa,'_ Dean tried to slow himself down. _'Are you seeing a pattern here, genius? Nice military guy, you want to work on his vehicle _so_ bad... I know that's just a metaphor for getting under his hood elsewhere... Bad idea, Dean. Knock it off, now. Before you do something stupid.'_ Dean was surprised to hear a fearful logic working in the cogs of his mind. It was true, this was a frighteningly familiar pattern. Dean figured he had a type, and Cas was it.

Cas laughed out loud again, "Your dad sounds like an awesome guy, and he's so right. Low rides are useless if you actually intend to _go_ somewhere with your truck. I mean, what good is having a truck if you have to stick to the roads? You might as well hop in a mini-van, or car. Aside from a car like yours, a man should drive a truck. That's the way I see it, anyway." He glanced at the kitchen again, starting to get really curious about what kind of food they were cooking back there.

"You have some odd defence mechanisms," he muttered, turning his blue eyes on Dean again, "Every time you get close to something you want to talk about, or get anywhere close to connecting with me you try to back off." He wanted to push the subjects Dean was avoiding but he told himself that it probably wasn't a good idea.

The only concern Dean should've thought of more strongly was the stranger on a train effect; you tend to spill your guts to people you don't know and never expect to see again.

"I'm here on business. The military set up a base just outside of the town, we're... well... It's top secret, so I'll just say there's a test being run. What about you?" he looked the puffiness of Dean's eyes as he spoke, "Got something on your mind you want to share?" he felt a little sorry for the guy, people eating in diners at 5am usually meant something wasn't going quite right in their life.

"On military business?" Dean perked up at that, and was just as quickly disappointed when the 'top secret' label was smacked over the whole conversation. "So if it's top secret, you're definitely working government. It's odd to see you guys around doing civil gigs tho. Must be something pretty cool." He wanted to answer the 'something on your mind' question but he wasn't sure he could do it on an empty stomach.

There was a brief break in the conversation when their food arrived. "Two bacon cheeseburgers with sides of fries, apple pie, and coffee. Let me know if you two need anything else." The tired graveyard shift diner worker placed their food down in front of them and wandered back to cleaning random bits of the store.

Dean got into the military business and excitement washed over him and away rather quickly, though Cas could tell that Dean really had a thing for military guys. "Yeah, working government... I'm not sure I'd say this is cool though... You know those movies, like uhm..." He lifted his hands in a gesture that showed he was searching for the right words, just as he was about to continue their food arrived. He took that as a welcome interruption, he was probably about to say something really stupid, something that would give them away.

His eyes widened when he saw the meal put down in front of him, "No way!" he exclaimed excitedly, snapping his head in Dean's direction as the other man bit into his burger, "Cheeseburgers are my all time favourite!" he dug in just as readily as Dean, it'd been a while since he hadn't eaten rations. His eyes nearly rolled into the back of his head as he tasted the fried meat and melted cheese, "Mmmm" he tried to respond to the continued conversation, though all he could give was a grunted moan as he chewed the over-sized bites he'd taken.

Dean smiled broadly, _'Finally, food!'_ Dean dug in to his burger. The bacon cheese burger was amazing, food fit for a king. Dean couldn't remember the last time he went out for food. Jake let him keep money for gas in the Impala, and for a membership at the gym. Eating out was a luxury Dean didn't have. Left over bar grub was amazing stuff, so long as you were careful about it. If people were on to you, they tended to spit in their food. If his employer caught him, he'd be in deep trouble. But he had to eat somewhere. The food in their small house wasn't anything impressive, and most of it was junk. Again, this burger was amazing. The fries were a welcome addition, and Dean hadn't realized just how much he needed the coffee –it was almost five a.m., of course he needed coffee. And God so help any man dumb enough to come between Dean and his pie.

"You know," Dean continued conversation between bites of burger and handfuls of fries, "My dad was a marine. Served his time in the draft, was even given some medals for bravery and stuff. He was a really good guy." Dean figured that he should probably stop reminiscing about his dad, only spoiled kids or drunk guys did that. "Anyway, he died a couple years back."

Cas swallowed when he heard Dean's story, "Your dad was a marine?" he watched the pain rise in Dean's eyes as he cut to the part about his father's death. Cas put his burger down and nodded his head solemnly, "I'm sorry to hear that... If it's not too much, I'd like to hear about his medals, or other stories you have of him. If you feel like it, that is. It doesn't have to be now," Cas hated hearing those stories, an ex-marine or any form of military dying and leaving kids behind. It always happened, he knew that, but he just hated to hear that they were dead from their kids. He much preferred the boasting of how their dad or mom served in the army, the grand heroics.

"**Got something on your mind you want to share?"** The memory of Cas' question both interrupted Dean's train of thought and welcomed it to the surface to reveal its ugly face and show just how much nothing mattered anymore.

"No one needs me," Dean said plainly, his grief and sorrows now evident in his voice. His words were painstakingly laden was the emotional agony that wretched in his mind and heart. "I'm not worth keeping around anymore. I miss my family, I miss knowing what safety feels like. I just want..." Dean trailed off after his voice hitched. He wasn't sure if he could help the flood of tears that were threatening to fall from his eyes.

"I just want it to stop." Dean shrugged off his jacket and lifted his shirt to reveal several ugly, jagged scars across his torso, and a deep black and purple bruise on his ribs. The cut lines trailed down his abs and followed his hip line out of sight below his jeans. Some of them looked old, telling stories of the years gone by in a place he shouldn't be, and some were fresh, pleading for help and intervention. Dean dropped his shirt to cover the scars.

His head was down now, not wanting to make eye contact with Cas. What would he think? He was military, he'd probably just tell Dean to suck it up. Hell, Cas had probably seen far worse in the line of work he was in. Dean was visibly trembling, tears falling freely from his face and dropping down onto his clenched fists.

"I'm so stupid," he whispered. "Forget... forget I said anything. I just don't know where to go... I don't want to go anywhere." Resentment toward no one but himself rose and he made a hasty decision to take control of one thing in his life. "At least someone will know why when they find me in a ditch tomorrow morning."

Cas sat quietly listening, sitting straight and respectfully awaiting Dean to finish. He hadn't wanted to interrupt, though after watching Dean lift his shirt he felt angry. Cas' jaw clenched and he felt a wave of anger flow through him. He'd met abusive people on the battlefield before; some of them were even in his ranks. He hated people like that, out there to fight just for the joy of hurting others. He was in the military to protect, defend others, save the helpless people that needed him. What he was seeing now, hearing now, he'd never seen a better example of a person who needed him. _This_ was the reason he joined the forces, people like Dean.

"Look at me," he spoke slowly and seriously, "You are worth keeping around, I'll prove it. But first I need you to take me to the lowlife that did this to you; when I'm done you will know safety again, I will make it stop." He grit his teeth and looked at his fist clenched on the counter, his eyes narrowing, "Let me help you, you won't have to make that decision ever again." He stood up and straightened his posture, facing Dean fully, "My name is Castiel, take me there," he relaxed his shoulders and turned his body slightly away from Dean as he stuck his hand out, "I will protect you, please, let me save you."

His eyes were sincere, his face showing no sign of deception, "If there's anything I think is bullshit, its coincidences. We met here for a reason; I had a gut feeling that sitting next to you was a good idea, that something would happen. You need this to stop, but whoever he is; he deserves to be lying dead in a ditch. It sounds like he's taken more from you than you could ever know, don't give him this too." Throughout Cas' little speech he hadn't broken his position. His hand remained extended toward Dean, hoping that the other man would take it, would accept his offer. "If you say no I'm going to follow you until you return there anyway, so I'd suggest just taking my hand," he added, a warming smile creeping onto his face. His voice hadn't sounded threatening or anything, just casually informing Dean that he'd get what he wanted regardless.


	3. Chapter 3

Dean was a wreck. He had run away from Jake's house, had broke down in a diner, and admitted to a total stranger that he was contemplating suicide. Dean thought about what Cas had said just a little earlier: _**"Every time you get close to something you want to talk about, or get anywhere close to connecting with me you try to back off."**_

'_There's a reason for that,'_ Dean contemplated it for a while, _'A really good reason for that. If I talked about those things with Jake, I'd be beaten to hell or worse. He __hates__ talking about anything, about us, about me, only about himself. And then if I confessed this sort of thing to someone –anyone- I'd look weak and cowardly, hell, I __feel__ weak. But it's not only that,'_ Dean swallowed hard at the thought of one of the biggest reasons he backed off from important conversation topics.

"I don't know what to say." Dean admitted after a lengthy silence. "You seem so... so very... honest. Like you really want to help me." Dean looked into his eyes, trying hard not to break away. It had been a long time since he'd had the self esteem to look someone in the eye, he'd come to see himself as somehow lesser. Those people didn't go home to their loved ones and get beat on raped, invite their friends over to do the same, then point and laugh. They were respectable people who didn't deserve that stuff happening to them, or to have to deal with that.

Cas rolled his eyes at that, "Of course I want to help you!" he tried not to sound too annoyed while he spoke but the way Dean kept backing down, cowering, and continually distrusting the help or conversation offered was starting to get to him. Though at the same time he understood where Dean was coming from, after being beaten the way Cas was guessing he had been, any one would be like that. It only made sense.

Dean quivered a bit, "Jake doesn't deserve it, I do. Everything he does, I fucked up. I'm terrified..." Dean squeezed his eyes shut, "I don't want to mess it up, I don't want it to be my fault. I can't take this." Dean realized the things he felt didn't fit. He blamed himself, but at the same time he knew he needed to escape. "If you want to help, I hope it doesn't back fire." Dean said with reluctance.

Cas shook his head, "You know that doesn't make sense, right?" Saying both his and Dean's thoughts out loud, "How could you have fucked it up if he was already fucked up when you met him? No one beats someone else up unless they have their own, personal problems to deal with. Or unless they're in the military," he shrugged his shoulders, excluding himself from what he'd just said, "Then we do it because of someone else's personal problems."

Dean took Cas' outstretched hand, he wanted to stay on topic this time, no avoiding the issue, "The reason why I back off is because..." _'Because I like you, but don't deserve you.'_ But Dean couldn't finish his sentence; he couldn't speak those words aloud. The man was military, and Dean loved him. The guy didn't just _look _it, like Jake did. The man didn't just _faintly_ remind Dean of his father. Castiel _was _those things, and he was the right kind. He was the kind of soldier who followed their oath of servitude, the kind of soldier who would serve for life. He was evidently a man who put the life of a civilian first, and all else above his own. He sought to serve and protect, and he did it with his heart.

Dean was obviously fighting demons in his head because after he'd taken Cas' hand he just sat there, "Of course it won't back fire," he said calmly, getting back to a previous statement, confident in his words, he watched Dean's face and saw those eyes finally lock into his.

'_If only...'_ Dean watched Cas' eyes and searched for a future there. He realized after some time that he had simply been holding Cas' hand, staring at his eyes, and left a completely nonsensical sentence unfinished. Dean blushed and pulled away quickly.

A smile crossed Cas' lips, took him long enough to get eye contact out of this diner-guy. At least momentarily, Dean's cheeks flushed red as his hazel eyes darted away, looking anywhere but at Cas. The soldier smirked, knowing a blush when he saw one.

"Please help me," He said simply. That was what he really wanted. It was what he really needed, and there was no reason to complicate things. He would rather be dead by six a.m. than face Jake again, but Castiel might be his answer. Dean would never forget the utter determination and sincerity in Castiel's voice when he had nearly pleaded: _**"Let me save you."**_ Castiel would be his saviour. It wasn't just helping him anymore. Dean could tell that Cas knew it was far beyond that. What Dean truly needed was exactly what Castiel offered: to be saved. From Jake, from his life, and quite possibly from himself.

He wasn't going to force his help on Dean, though part of him really wanted to. He was grateful when Dean asked him to help, the young man obviously needed it and now he seemed to realize it, too. He responded to Dean's plea with a wide grin, overly excited about the situation, "Well good, I'm glad we can see eye to eye on this one."

Dean stood up, his food finished. "You were going to show me your truck, right? Well let's go take a look. After that you can take me home." Dean hoped getting a ride with Castiel would help calm his nerves. He also didn't want Jake flipping out and destroying his car. After it was over, Castiel would have to take him back to his car, he couldn't just leave him there. Could he? Dean shook his head, _'No, not Cas. He could never do anything like that.'_ Dean winced in serious pain as he stood and attempted to walk. Jake had done a real number on him, and it hurt just to move. The pain was evident on his face when he tried walking out the door.

Cas watched Dean's unstable form struggle to stand up from the stool, "Yes," He said slowly, "I did offer to show you my truck; you want to leave your car here?" Cas was slightly concerned about that thought, what if something happened and they car ended up staying there for a long period of time? Cas would feel horrible in that situation, though he could also tell that Dean was in no shape to really be doing anything. "Well alright then, a ride home it is." On their way out the door he pointed out the changes he'd made to his vehicle, they weren't that big of a deal though they did change her look a bit from the classic style.

"Been a while since someone was interested in my truck, I'm a bit rusty on how to explain her. Though you, being a mechanic and all, can probably already see everything before I have to explain it." He could tell that Dean desperately wanted to get his mind off the pain, the fact that there was that much of it was really starting to get under Cas' skin. He knew even more now that whoever was waiting for them when they got to that house, he was going to kick the shit out of them.

Admiring the truck, Dean could see several of the detailing works Cas was talking about, and few that he wasn't. Keeping his own car in mint condition required knowledge not just of the mechanical under the hood stuff, but autobody as well. He could see several places on Castiel's truck where he'd probably hit something, something hit him, or his offroading got the better of him. It was fixed up of course, it looked mint. But to the trained eye, there were telltale signs. Dean could talk to Cas for hours about this truck alone. Men with respect for cars had a respect for the car's history. Dean was sure Castiel would love explaining those little adventures and mishaps. All it would take from Dean is a general pointing out of the former damage done, and asking 'what happened here?'

The mechanical work was genius and ingenuitive. Looking it over once more, Dean was perturbed to find his didn't recognize everything. "I'm guessing from the work done, you bring this baby in to a military mechanic, don't you? I can tell the work is good –very professional. But some of these parts... " Dean poked around a bit, "Some of these parts are armoured, and others are just plain military grade. I'm kinda jealous." Dean admired the car for a while before they got going.

Cas watched the way Dean looked at his truck and knew that there was definitely an amazing mechanic in that tormented little head. He smiled as he looked out the front window, "Yeah, sometimes the only shop you can bring it to is one nearby, which for me is always a base of some kind. Army mechanics aren't so bad, sure you end up with something that resembles a tank by the end of it, but that's not really a _bad_ thing, is it?" Chuckling he recalled numerous stories he could tell Dean though he figured that it would probably be too much right now.

To continue to distract himself, Dean tried talking, "I'm sorry, I didn't even introduce myself. My name's Dean Winchester. But lately it's just been whatever derogatory term you can come up with." Dean added bitterly after, "Bitch works just fine." Dean knew Cas wouldn't call him that, he even suspected that Cas would take a strong disagreement towards that statement. But by now Dean was just fishing for attention. What Cas was saying wasn't even making him feel better about himself, it was just greatly desired attention.

What Castiel did that _did_ make a difference to Dean was the way he treated him. Castiel had a habit of treating others with respect, and Dean could sense that off him pretty easily. Castiel was quick to care, and slow to judge. And the caring, gentle manner he spoke to Dean in was firm and confident while being sincere and not belittling. "Castiel, you make me feel human again. I thought you should know." Dean's eyes were downcast while he sat in Cas' passenger seat.

Yep, Cas was gonna kill that bastard boyfriend of Dean's. "Dean Winchester, nice name..." He looked over at his passenger, not even giving the derogatory name a second thought, "I prefer that one, I think I'll call you Dean, but if you wanted a nickname I could think one up..." He paused to consider the subject as he started his baby up. Then it hit him, he called his truck 'baby' because it was important to him, something he intended to keep in mint condition for the rest of his, and its, life. "How about baby?" he asked, his face showing no signs of him joking.

Dean squirmed, nervous at what might come out. He felt even less at ease when Castiel shared his serious opinion on the matter. Dean broke into a furious blush. Was he making fun of him, telling him to suck it up because he was just a whiney little baby?

Dean managed to look at Cas, but found that there was no joking expression. He was serious, and he didn't look like he intended to insult. Dean's blush deepened. _'Baby as in the possessive? As in, _his_ baby?' _Dean's eyes widened and he tried to make eye contact, to which he found he was far too embarrassed about and looked back down at his lap. "I said you could call me whatever you want, if you mean it."

"Yeah," he smiled, "I'm calling you Dean, or baby, depending on the situation." He looked over at Dean, his eyes almost twinkling again, "I'm glad I can help, though I haven't done anything yet." He looked Dean up and down, seeing the physical state of his body was enough to tell him how fragile the other man really was.

After watching Dean's original reaction to being called 'baby' Cas felt a little bad, he had heard the way it sounded but figured that Dean wouldn't take it the wrong way. Apparently he shouldn't underestimate Dean's ability to shoot himself down. He turned his head to look at his passenger, their eyes caught and he seemed to manage to show his sincerity that way. Cas watched Dean's struggle to keep eye contact, knowing that was a sign of someone forced into submission too many times, "Okay that settles it then," he grinned as he looked back at the road, "You're my baby now."

Suddenly feeling self conscious, Dean's mind started racing; _'I'm taking this way too far. I'm going to push him away if I keep up with this emotional crap. He's in the military for god's sake! He doesn't have time for __this__. I need to be stronger if I'm going to keep his attention. He like how much I knew about cars, so I guess I should stick to more typical masculine topics. I know guns...'_ Dean searched around the cab and sure enough, he found some of Castiel's previously discarded gear. He picked up the basic firearm.

Cas hadn't expected Dean to start fussing around with his gear, "Hey, whoa!" He couldn't help the exclamation, those guns were _loaded_ and ready to go off, he'd seen too many comedies where one idiot shot the other in the leg or something. _Not_ a good thing for the situation they were in. Though he calmed down a little when he saw the way Dean held it, with proper form and knowledge of safety.

"My dad taught me all about army issued equipment," Dean commented while checking out the gun. "Don't worry, I know what I'm doing," Dean tried to set Cas at ease. Most guys wouldn't want strangers just picking up their guns, it would probably make Castiel uneasy. Dean wondered how upset Castiel was with him. "This model is a lot newer than the stuff my dad had. He was in the marines before I was born, so his stories a pretty old. And apparently so is his equipment." Dean admired the lighter weight of this new model. He hoped that he'd continued to develop a better front with Cas.

Anyone could say they learned about weapons, they needed to prove it, hold it and show him that they really knew what they were doing, before Cas would believe it. Dean seemed to know, so he relaxed again. "I'm sure a lot of things have changed since your dad was serving," Cas spoke solemnly, thinking about the sector they were headed to. Though at the same time, both militaries, Cas' and John's, were probably stuck cleaning up the messes of their government.

Through hearing Dean's words, seeing his expressions and watching where his eyes would, and wouldn't look told him more than he could ever learn by watching the physical injuries. "Can I be honest?" Cas asked softly, his smile looking more concerned, "I like you, Dean." He gave a short nod of his head to reassure Dean and himself, "I can tell what kind of person you are, behind all the abuse and torture you've suffered. You're beautiful, inside and out. You have a ton of potential and I want to bring that out of you."

Dean quickly realized that he didn't need to act tough, or pretend to be something else.

Castiel sounded as though he were trying to calm a spooked horse, or talk down a cat after being chased around the neighbourhood by a dog. His words were soothing at a deeper level, and this was established simply by the tone in his voice. But what he said completely floored Dean. As Castiel went on, Dean realized he was blushing again –that is, of course, if he had ever ceased blushing to begin with. _'He __likes__ me? Like, really likes me? Well, he does want to call me 'baby' and I don't think he was joking. Ok, I must be dreaming or crazy. Maybe I did crash my car somewhere and this is just a delusional death scene I wished would've been an alternative. I think that would fall under the crazy category. But –wait, did he just say he thinks I'm beautiful? I just showed him all those scars, I've done nothing but beg for death and whine about my pathetic life. What the hell does he see?'_

"I want to see a smile on your face, and if possible, I want to be the one who put it there. I want to ask you two questions now, and I want you to answer honestly, without thinking of consequences, okay? First, what is this guy's name so I can make it more personal for him? And second, once I'm done beating the hell out of him and giving him what he's deserved for what looks like years now, will you-"

As Cas was speaking and Dean was physically pointing at different street signs, trying to get downtown to his little ghetto place, the CB radio in Cas' truck came on loud and alarming:

"_ALL PERSONELL MUST IMMEDIATELY REPORT TO SECTOR 5. NO DELAYS, NO EXCUSES. THIS IS AN EMERGENCY. ALL PERSONELL MUST IMMEDIATELY REPORT TO SECTOR 5. NO DELAYS, NO EXCUSES. THIS IS AN EMERGENCY."_

Before Dean could voice any of his questions, or even answer Castiel's, the alarm sounded from the CB radio. _'Will I __what__?' _Dean's mind screamed. That question sounded important, like it would change everything. Jake's name was nothing, hell, he didn't even deserve a name when Castiel killed him –he never said he'd kill him, but Dean could hope. Though numerous fears and questions started to rise in his mind.

Dean looked at Cas, the little multicoloured status indicator flashing an alarming red from the dash. Whatever was going on, it was bad. And evidently, it was very, very urgent. They weren't close enough to Dean's house that he could get out and walk, and he was not going back there alone. They were also far enough from the diner that his raped ass wouldn't enjoy that walk. He looked pleadingly with Cas, what would the man do? He couldn't ignore a direct order, so would he go back on his word? Would Dean just be left on the side of the road? He hoped not.

Cas' eyes slowly closed as he heard the radio go off, interrupted in the middle of an important question. He knew he couldn't possibly ask it now, it would feel like it was rushed, like it meant less. He couldn't allow that, especially with Dean's mental state.

After the CB shut off, everything was silent. Castiel said nothing, didn't even attempt to finish his question. It was like life came up and kicked him in the ass. _'What if he was going to offer something, but the CB just reminded him of his career? His military service means more than beating up some guy. What if they never got back to that conversation?'_ This silence was awkward and tense, at least, Dean found it to be.

Cas knew he had to report to sector 5 immediately, as the message said he had no time for delays, and no excuse for why he'd be late. He also knew he couldn't throw Dean out of the truck to face this unknown prick, or leave him to walk to his car and _then_ go and face this unknown prick. Cas shook his head and slammed on the breaks, spinning out the back end of his truck and going the opposite direction, his foot pressed down to the floor.

Castiel made a decision, fishtailed, and floored it. Dean tensed immediately at the sudden acceleration and gripped the dash to prevent himself from being moved about too much. He cringed in pain and shrivelled in his seat. "Thanks for that," he grunted in discomfort.

Cas quickly muttered an apology, he hadn't thought that far. He was thinking about how Dean must be feeling, as if Cas was going to leave him on the side of the road. He didn't have to look at Dean's face to know what kind of look he was getting from him, "You're coming with me," he said in his rough voice, the stress evident on his face, "I want you to stay in my truck and duck down so no one can see you, understood? This is top secret and I could get into big trouble for bringing you in with me." He glanced at Dean and felt a cold shiver run down his spine. Whatever was happening back in sector 5 was bad news, he could feel it. There was no way he was going to leave this man, someone he just swore he'd protect, alone in the town. Especially not after the alarming message that came over his radio.

"I'm going with you?" Dean asked, astonished that Castiel would do that. Dean knew he wasn't allowed, and his work was top secret, this was government stuff, after all.

"There's some stupid shit going down in sector 5," he said solemnly, "I'm not sure what yet, but I know it's going to be ugly." He saw a figure running out onto the road ahead of him and swerved just in time to miss it. His eyes refocused and sent the image to his brain, the person they had just seen was covered in blood and carrying the head of a man in her hand. Cas glanced in his rear-view mirror then back at the road, "Okay, it's already gotten ugly around here." They were really close to the base, that was enough to tell him that the toxic fumes those fugly monsters gave off had managed to spread around. _'That probably means one of them, or more, got loose.'_

"Shit!" Dean gripped the dash again when Castiel swerved to miss the woman on the street. Dean looked out the window briefly, "Carol?" he asked, alarm evident in his voice. He knew her, and her husband's head in her hand. Dean paled instantly. That movie Castiel was talking about was either the Mist, hence the military involvement, or the Crazies. Since it was psycho zombies, and not killer aliens, Dean figured it was the Crazies. His neighbour just went loopy and killed her husband. This was fantastic. "Please don't kick me out of this truck."

What Castiel had figured was that she was an escaped experiment, but with Dean's outburst he would realize that the situation was far worse than that. The woman was someone Dean knew, a neighbour. And that meant she didn't escape, she was infected. The town itself was already starting to go under, and this was just the start of it.

They pulled up to sector 5, there were several vehicles strewn about, most parked unevenly, all of them abandoned. He figured the men must be inside. "Okay," he spoke as he threw on the gear he'd taken off earlier, "You duck down and stay down, unless it's me, don't pop up for anything. You got it? And breathe through your shirt, there are toxins around here, it might help." He checked himself over one more time to make sure he was equipped, "Okay..." he quickly scanned his mind for different scenarios that he may have to inform Dean about. _'What if something happens and we have to run? He isn't exactly in tip-top shape for that.'_

Dean was far beyond uneasy and quickly coming up on inconsolable. "You're leaving me here?" He asked, panic in his voice. "What else is going to be out there?" Cas telling him not to pop out for anything made him feel even worse. Anyone made sense, but anything? What was going on? "Toxins?" Staying down wouldn't be a problem if he fainted. Every time Cas added something to his departing orders things got worse and worse. So Dean wasn't only hiding from military personnel, he was also hiding from mutants and possibly zombies. And he was alone. Not to mention that whatever made the zombies was airborne and Dean was breathing it in that very second. This day just kept on getting better and better.

Quickly telling himself to calm the fuck down helped a bit. This was military stuff, if his dad could do it... well, his dad could do anything. But Dean could at least try to make him proud. He quickly pulled his shirt up over his mouth and nose and ducked down in the truck.

He heard Dean's panic rising in his breathing alone, though he couldn't blame him for it. First off he was stuck in the truck of a man he'd just met, second he'd just seen a neighbour carrying around a severed head, and lastly he was in a serious amount of pain and knew that escaping would be difficult. Cas wanted to calm him down but at this point he didn't know what to say, shit was going down and he didn't have time to really console the man.

Then something came to mind, something he should have remembered earlier when he saw Dean limping. "One more thing," he fumbled in the backseat, searching through his personal bag until he pulled out a small bathroom bag, equipped with toothbrush and other things. After a moment he pulled out a tube of ointment from a hidden compartment. "This'll definitely help," he handed it over to Dean, the title on it read; 'For anal treatment only'. "It works, trust me." He left it at that, though he wanted to see Dean's reaction when he realized that Cas knew something about anal pains.

He ran inside to report to the superior officer for orders.

"What's this?" Dean took the ointment from Castiel. He read it while Cas explained quickly and left. Dean's head shot up, but Cas was gone. _'Anal treatment? And he __knows__ it works? But he said he was banging the governor's daughter, I thought he was straight? Maybe he just likes sodomy... or maybe he's bi-sexual.'_ Dean got pretty excited at the thought of his potentially bi-sexual soldier friend.

Dean scrambled to the doors and quickly locked them before sinking back down into the footspace by the passenger seat. It was coming up on seven a.m. and Dean started to feel like the world was coming to an end. He pulled out his phone and dialled Sam's number again. _'Please pick up, Sammy. Please,'_ the phone continued to ring and Dean wasn't sure if Sam would even answer.

Whether it was an answering machine or Sam actually picked up, Dean rambled off into what was going on, terrified and needing to tell _someone_ what the hell was happening. "Sam, if you get this please call me," Dean already assumed it was answering machine. "I have had the worst three years of my life, with you gone and dad dead... I just didn't know what to do with myself. Anyway, there was this guy... I've made a lot of bad choices. Hell I should've gone to the hospital this time instead of the diner, but I really wanted that cheeseburger. I guess it was sort of a 'last meal' kinda thing, I really didn't see myself making it to sunrise today. I honestly didn't, man."

Dean took a pause to listen if Sam was there, "Sammy?" His voice cracked a bit, he hadn't explained exactly what happened, hadn't explained anything really, but he felt like he did. "Hey, things are getting weird out here. The military is in town on some top secret government cover up deal, and they just went on red alert. I saw my next door neighbour carry around her husband's severed head for christ's sake! It's like something out of a horror movie. I'm at the military base now, I was picked up by a soldier named Castiel. It sounds like he intends to keep me around, despite the fact I'm not even allowed here. He left to go receive his orders and I'm sitting in the truck."

Dean peered out of the truck window to take a look around. He knew Cas had told him to stay down, but he couldn't help his curiosity. The parking lot looked empty, _'Shouldn't there be a bunch of soldiers running around or something? I thought this was HQ?'_

"Sammy, something about this doesn't feel right. There's no one around, and everything –I mean _everything_ –is deadly silent. I'm going to go take a look around. If you never hear from me again, just know that I love you. And I really missed you," Dean choked up a bit at the thought of never seeing Sam again. Sure, he hadn't thought he'd see him as it was, but as long as they were both alive, there was still a chance. That wasn't the case if Dean died before the day was through. "I wish I could've seen you again. I really needed you. Take care of yourself Sammy." Dean hung up and pocketed his phone.

Taking another look at the ointment, he figured he'd probably want that before going anywhere. He wriggled his pants and underwear down, with great difficulty trying to remain unseen to potential passers-by. Dean hoped this stuff was pretty heavy duty, and pushed a generous amount out of the tube and onto his fingers. Thinking about how embarrassing it would be for Cas to return that moment, Dean picked up the pace, _'Talk about getting caught with your pants down.'_

After he pulled his pants back up, taking care to note that ointment is far from instantaneous, Dean rummaged through the glovebox hoping to find a spare firearm. Finding the basic military handgun, an M-9 pistol, Dean mused at its significance. _'Either Castiel is an officer, or he's a member of a special forces unit. Not everybody has an issued hand gun, they're mostly rifles.'_ Dean took it anyway and checked the magazine, it was loaded.

Skulking out of the truck, Dean started to head toward the building Castiel had disappeared into a short while earlier.


	4. Chapter 4

They'd pulled up and Cas left Dean with numerous instructions and an ointment, hoping it would help the pain in case they needed to run. With that, he ran inside. The message had said return to sector 5, probably calling all off-duty soldiers. He knew that he was usually pretty fast so he hadn't expected to see any of the others (the off-duty guys) here yet, which meant all the action was going on somewhere on the base. He pushed the doors open and looked around; he heard no sounds aside from his own breathing and the heartbeat in his ears.

He cautiously reached around for the handgun that was usually holstered on his hip, though this time he didn't find it. He'd seen it in the truck earlier, which was probably where he'd left it. "Damn it..." he cursed quietly, looking for some kind of weapon now, not wanting to wander around an eerily quiet base he expected to be infested with mutants without a way to defend himself. He found his black-handled switchblade and mentally cursed himself for not bringing in all his shit. He'd left it in the truck, at least Dean could make use of it if necessary.

Cas crept along the hallway, looking into each room as he passed it by, not seeing anyone. He frowned as he continually found the same problem everywhere he went, no one was around. _'What the hell?'_ He thought angrily, _'They call me here with barely any information and now no one's around to explain what happened?'_ He quieted his steps and started to check each room like an enemy would leap out of it, obviously it had been a bad enough emergency that something went down in the short amount of time it took him to get there.

With the new mindset, Cas looked at the state of each room he passed by and realized they all looked like they'd been left in a big hurry. He shook his head, whatever had happened, it was bad. He gripped the handle of his blade as he continued down the hall. He wasn't sure where he should be heading, at this point he'd be happy to see at least one familiar face.

As he finished his thought he spotted someone at the end of the hall. "Hey!" he whispered harshly, hoping he'd catch the other man's attention. From where he could see the back of the other man as he stared at the wall in the center of the three-way intersection. Cas inspected the way he was standing and figured that, judging by the posture, he was standing at attention. He breathed a sigh of relief; there would probably be others down that way too. He trotted down the hallway and reached the man's side, "You have no idea how glad I am to-"

Cas took several steps back after he'd looked up to see the man's face, this wasn't one of their soldiers. The man standing there had been in the experiments, searching for a cure of some kind. Obviously the emergency on the base was a breakout, and apparently it had been too much for the soldiers on base to handle. Cas knew this because the mutation standing before him wasn't just wearing a soldier's uniform to trick him, the monstrosity was actually wearing the _soldier_.

Cas watched the thing turn in his direction, skin peeled away to make room for its unusually large eyes. Its breathing came in quick, short and shallow inhales followed by an almost non-existent exhale. It stared at him briefly, and in those almost slo-mo moments, Cas could actually see different waves coming off the thing's body. He knew it was already too late to cover his mouth, plus that would reduce mobility and in the current situation he really wanted to be able to move. Also, he really wished he'd had a gun.

In seconds the thing was lunging at him, part of him wished it wasn't wearing a comrades skin, another part was glad that he couldn't see its real features. He dodged to the side and watched its awkward movements as it missed him and stumbled along the floor. The thing's hands were hideous, too long to fit in any normal human's skin sack, so they'd torn through and Cas could see the pale pigments of its skin. It was discoloured at best, though he wasn't interested in figuring out the creature's colour while it was trying to rip his head off.

Not wanting to wait for it to attack again, Cas stomped down on the thing's leg only to find that it had several more joins than a human, enabling it to bend its legs in almost any direction. He would have to make this quick. He used his other hefty boot to crush its ribcage, squatting down and slicing through the thing's throat. Blood spewed out, splattering over his jacket and onto the side of his face. He watched it writhe beneath him, catching a glimpse of a vibration moving up from its stomach. Cas hopped off of it and took several steps back, if there was anything he'd learned from movies it was that you never stand there like an idiot if you have a chance to back off. You never know what's gonna happen with a strange, unknown creature.

He felt something telling him to back a lot further away from this one and, never being to ignore his gut feelings, he obeyed. It was then that he saw a blast of toxic fumes spew out of its open throat and hit the ceiling, leaving an ugly mark that indicated the toxins had eaten part of it away, though it quickly dissipated into the air. Cas covered his mouth and nose, quickly getting out of there. He figured that if something was going to happen, the main officer of sector 5 would probably have _something_ in his complex. Cas made a beeline for it, not wanting to run into another one of those things.

* * *

><p>Sam heard his phone ringing again, this time he was resting up after all the studying he'd done. No matter how much you try, there's always a saturation point for how much you can cram into your skull before you forget things. He'd hooked his phone up to the answering machine, figuring he'd let that get it. He heard a click and his own voice saying 'Hey it's Sam, I'm not available right now so leave your name and a brief message and I'll get back to you." <em>BEEP.<em> He was about to go back to sleep, when he heard Dean's frantic voice start rambling off. He sat upright in his bed and looked over at the other room where the sound was coming from. He threw the covers off and headed for the phone.

He didn't want to interrupt what his brother was saying, it sounded like it was something Dean needed to get out. Sam felt painful thump in his chest as he listened to Dean talk about his 'last meal'. Of course it'd be cheeseburgers, it was Dean's favourite. Sam figured he'd even ordered apple pie too, which only made the pain hurt more. He hadn't checked on his brother in years, after their dad died he left early and didn't stay to help or console Dean. He remembered that day, everything thought he was heartless and didn't give a shit about his dad, though he was more torn up than he would ever admit. He and his dad never saw eye to eye, they always fought over and about everything. He wanted to have the same relationship with his dad that he thought every kid did, throw a baseball, get help with homework, being scolded for doing stupid things but then having a good laugh about it... Maybe that was only in the movies.

Regardless, though, Sam had wanted to know his father better, but the man had died before he got the chance. It tore him up, he couldn't stand to be at the viewing where he could see the discoloured, cold body of a once proud and strong man. He'd never get the chance to apologize for being such a stuck up brat, he'd never get to know what his dad's dreams were, what he wanted for his sons, what he wanted to be. By the time they had reached the burial Sam just couldn't take it anymore, he had to get out of there before he lost his mind. He didn't want anyone to worry about him, so he came up with some bullshit about having something to do and left early. He'd never actually left; he wasn't in any shape to be driving around. He stayed in an old motel their dad used to take them to, always getting the same room. He'd stayed there for a few days before finally managing to go home.

Dean always had a better relationship with the man, got more praise than Sam, but that was only because he never stood up for himself. And by the sounds of it, not standing up for himself was the cause of his shitty situation. Sam picked his phone up and turned it on after hearing what kind of predicament Dean was in, "Hey, Dean I was in bed, sorry I didn't pick up." He quickly rattled that off so his brother wouldn't think he was ignoring the phone call, though knowing Dean's paranoia he probably would anyway. "First I want to say that everyone makes bad choices, Dean, you aren't alone in that so please don't go off the deep end with it. Everyone gets hurt but it gets better, pain is one of the harshest teachers but it works." He wanted to make his brother get off the stupid suicide-train; whatever had happened to him couldn't possibly be that bad. All he had to do was leave, but Dean always had a problem with that, something Sam hated about him. He was too soft and stubborn to see when someone would hurt him, he never left or did what was necessary to take care of himself. It drove Sam up the wall half the time; he'd gotten to the point where he couldn't be around Dean because of it. He couldn't take constantly having to make sure Dean backed off when necessary or worrying that his brother was going to do something stupid. He just had to leave it behind and try to do something for himself.

Though listening to Dean now, Sam realized that had all been a mistake. Leaving Dean didn't help the situation at all; Sam couldn't help but feel partially responsible for it. "Dean, I'm sorry." He whispered, Dean was going on about how he missed him and needed him, making Sam see even more than he never should have left.

He remembered the feeling he'd had at John's funeral, the thought he'd never see him again, never hear his voice, never get to ask him questions or answer any, never hear him laugh... Dean was in a spot where the same thing was about to happen. Sam may never get to talk to Dean, or apologize to him. "Dean!" He shouted as he heard the phone hang up, he'd been too quiet too long. "Dean, no..." He hung the phone up and stared down at it. Emotions and thoughts swirled around his head like a tornado until he made a decision; he was going out there to see his brother.

* * *

><p>Cas stood in the office belonging to the head of this operation, staring at the mess left behind. He leaned over and looked at the computer screen, scanning anything that may have something to do with what was happening. What he saw only further proved his suspicions. He sighed heavily and shook his head. What was he supposed to do? Calling back up may only make the situation worse... Hazmat suits were necessary; probably getting a hold of people who took care of quarantines would be the best course of action.<p>

Upon entering the sector 5 officer's complex, Castiel knew something wasn't right. With all those cars parked outside there should be at least a dozen of his fellow men running through these corridors, but Castiel couldn't even hear a sound. When he found the officer's office, no one was there. The computer screen was still glowing bright, indicating that whoever had last used it never logged off. They must have left in a hurry, or they were taken out. The open files on the computer were about the project at hand.

The experiments being performed were in the efforts of developing a new medicine. There were extensive dossiers about the test subjects as well as the side effect, toxin-infected discards. Some of them had names, others simply had numbers. The general mutation of the treatment cause massive cell death in the frontal cerebral cortex, shutting down executive planning and reasoning regions in the brain. The inner cerebellum area, involved in livelihood and general function remained intact, but the general outcome was madness.

The alert had been sent out several minutes before the CB operator put it through to the off duty soldiers, which was definitely an oddity. The alert was for an uncontrolled outbreak that required immediate military intervention. The number of men left on the base should've been enough to contain a small outbreak, one would assume. But still, there was no one around.

There was a small creak as the office door was nudged open slightly. Dean poked his head in the room to take a look around. He quickly pulled back when he saw his first living being in the facility. Positive he'd been seen; he realized that he recognized that face. It was Castiel.

He froze when he heard the door creak behind him, his instincts kicked in and he spun around, flinging the door open. In one quick movement he was on top of the intruder, his knife above him ready to make another quick kill. Then he saw those big hazel eyes, frightened, staring at him. "Dean?" he asked, relaxing and taking all pressure off him, "What are you doing here! I told you to stay in the truck?" He closed the switchblade and put it back in its holding place. "Come on," he gently picked Dean up and quickly walked outside, "Other off-duty soldiers will be arriving soon, we need to wait for them before doing anything."

He thought about the monster he'd killed just moments before and shook his head, "New rule, don't leave my sight, okay?" He put Dean down on his feet as they reached the truck. He opened the door and grabbed the commonly issued rifle, feeling much better with one of those in his hands. "So," he looked at the tube of ointment on the seat, "Did it work?" Making small talk might calm Dean down, at least until others arrived.


	5. Chapter 5

Sam had all of his shit packed and headed for the town he'd known Dean to be in, or at least the one he figured he was in. Dean had a habit of staying in the same place, meaning that the town Dad was last in was the town that Dean would be in. Sam had already purchased last minute tickets online, sent an email to his professor and had his bags ready to go for when the taxi pulled up. He tapped his fingers nervously against the door as he watched for the bright yellow vehicle to pull up on in front of his place.

The moment he spotted it, since he had his laptop bag over his shoulder already, all he had to do was pick up his clothing bag and run out the door. He threw himself in the backseat and told the driver 'airport' assertively as he buckled himself in, "Hurry please," Sam added, "Thanks." He looked out the window and sighed anxiously, Dean was reckless on the best of days, leaving him to run around in something that sounded like a top secret military operation was definitely a bad idea. The man Dean named as Castiel, the soldier, was with him so maybe Dean wasn't in too much trouble, though Sam would feel better if he were there with them.

Sam paid the driver as they pulled into the terminal and leapt out of the cab, booking it to the desk they had set up. After giving them his information and his ticket numbers he was given the appropriate directions to his gate. A quick 'thank you' was all he muttered as he ran through the airport, the only thing on his mind was his brother who might be dead for all he knew.

* * *

><p>Dean let out an alarmed yelp as he was suddenly forced to the ground. He was sure it was Castiel he had seen in there, but it was also entirely possible that Dean was wrong. He couldn't help but admire how well the ointment worked; if nothing else it was a fantastic lubricant, and friction of most any kind was minimal at best. How exactly Dean was able to notice these things with a knife precariously poised to end him, he wasn't even sure. Dean squirmed a little to look clearly at Castiel's face, his large hazel eyes searching for mercy and recognition. He let out a sigh of relief when Castiel lowered the knife.<p>

The brief moments Castiel resided on top of Dean felt like forever. Dean loved the feel of him pushing down on him, all of Castiel's primal might holding Dean down, helpless to Castiel's whim. Dean figured that yeah, there was probably something wrong with him. But it just felt so _good_. The key with such urges and turn ons was to find someone who wouldn't take advantage of you, and Castiel didn't seem to be the type to do that. Dean exhaled steadily, with the aid of much concentration. The ointment took care of all anal friction at the present, but friction in more frontal areas was not currently accommodated.

Before Dean could become too engrossed in the brief heavenly sensations of another man on top of him, Castiel kindly removed himself. Dean's brow furrowed, he longed for that feeling again.

"Yeah, it's me," Dean replied sheepishly. "I know you told me to stay in the truck, but there's something really wrong here. It just _feels_ wrong, you know?" Dean noticed that Castiel seemed a little frazzled, apparently he'd realized that something wasn't right as well. Of course, that was only to be expected, seeing as how Castiel was actually _trained_ for this sort of thing. Dean flinched when Castiel moved in again, and was surprised when he was lifted not only off of the ground, but into Castiel's arms!

'_He's __carrying__ me?'_ Dean's face trade markedly expressed his every emotion from shock to awe to a light blush. He absent mindedly nuzzled into Cas' chest. He felt so strong, he sounded so certain. And surprisingly enough, he smelled good. Dean closed his eyes and sighed, he was temporarily content. Despite the abusive boyfriend, despite the zombie apocalypse, despite everything Castiel had brought him happiness. It would be brief, but it was amazing.

Back at the truck, Dean was returned to his own two feet. He pouted at the inconvenience and the lack of physical contact with Castiel before bringing himself back around to the matter at hand. "Ok, I'm not leaving your sight. I promise," just as Dean verbally adhered to Castiel's instructions, he was already thinking of ways he would leave Castiel's sight. A bathroom break was one example; another was the re-application of the anal ointment.

"**So... Did it work?"**

As if on cue Castiel began small talk on the point of anal ointment. Dean could have sworn he'd taken that with him. If Castiel's goal was to calm him down, he couldn't chosen a less personal subject matter. "Uh, yeah, it works great. Hey," Dean raised an eyebrow, a bit more of a cocky tone encroaching in his voice, "How exactly is it that you knew this stuff would work? The 'trust me, I know' attitude makes me think you had personal experience with it. Better yet, why is a soldier carrying around this sorta thing on a day-to-day basis?" Dean really wanted to know if Castiel was available to him. Everything hinted toward it, and Dean was already claimed as Castiel's baby. Dean was thrilled at the thought of it, and the anticipation alone maintained his half hard erection.

Cas had dropped Dean off in the parking lot and geared up, trying to make small talk with the man. He then realized it had been a bad idea, seeing as how he'd left Dean with a rather odd comment he would've preferred not mentioned again. And now here he was, basically asking for it. "Ahh..." He scratched the back of his head, searching for a decent response, something that sounded believable but wasn't too close to true. Upon realizing that preparation H was the name of the cream used for haemorrhoids, he discovered that he had no believable lie.

"Well..." Cas struggled to answer the question, he'd never been too good at explaining himself properly, either he was too blunt or didn't get to the point. He figured that in this situation, bluntness was probably a better option. If he beat around the bush then Dean would be offended, thinking that Cas was ashamed of taking part in homosexual actions. Considering he'd been trying to make the guy feel better, that would be taking a step backward and just plain counter-productive. He felt a little embarrassed as he started in on his explanation.

"I know it works because I use it, and I have it with me because I use it regularly." He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the truck, "Don't get me wrong, my favourite is top. But I have itches that need to be scratched too... Remember how I said I'm usually pretty open-minded? Well most soldiers aren't, anything homosexual is usually frowned upon and sometimes you can even get kicked out for it." He nodded his head toward the back of his truck, "I have a compartment back there that has a bag of 'toys' that I use for masturbation," he couldn't believe he was telling a total stranger this, though it seemed to calm them both down a little bit.

"I _love_ giving it, but I also have this thing about 'you should be able to take what you can dish out', you know? So at one point I wanted to know; can I really take what I can give? So I experimented, and low-and-behold I enjoy anal. And I mean really enjoy it, I think I have a fetish sometimes. So I shove a lot of things up there," he felt like he was getting a weird look for that bit and shrugged, "I have a high sex drive," he added, hoping that would make what he'd just said a bit less strange.

'Too much information' would be an understatement at this point in time, but Dean listened to every bit of information he could get out of Cas regarding his sexual tendencies. All he'd wanted to know was if he'd tried anal before. It could even have been with a woman for all Dean knew, he was hoping a man, but there was always the possibility. Now he knew that Castiel was at least bi-sexual, which was awesome. Dean couldn't help but smile at that. He also knew Castiel's preference of position, and that he was definitely kinky. Toys used for masturbation plus an open mind equalled a possibility for various sexual kinds, including role play and S&M. Dean was still just as happy to hear Castiel's preference for top but willingness, nay _wanting to_ switch it up. _'Alright, and I'm certain I'm not dreaming, right? Right? This has got to be a dream.'_

Dean's mind shot off in the direction of wild sexual fantasies. One of the primary reasons he'd liked Jake in the first place were physical, hell, there was no emotion there to speak of, not at the time. But where emotions fostered in Dean's heart –like they always do for those closest to him, Jake remained careless and even became less affectionate as time wore on. But Castiel would be a whole different story... _'If you love giving it so much, why don't you give it to me?'_ Dean's expression changed to one of curious lust, a far different expression than Castiel had ever seen on the man's face yet today. Dean could hardly believe how turned on he was. He'd expected that, after being raped, any sort of aggressive sexual talk or action would scare the crap out of him. But no, he really was a glutton for punishment.

"Well, so long as we're waiting for others to come, what was it that you wanted to ask me about? You know, that thing you started in on before the CB alarm went off."

Eagerly awaiting Castiel's question, Dean kept his eyes trained on him with such intensity you'd think he'd miss the answer if he blinked. He was somewhat surprised that Castiel was shorter than him –he just assumed himself to be so small and inconsequential these days that it really never occurred to him. Castiel apparently didn't know how much Dean had been smiling already, but that was always to himself, just in case he was wrong. All Dean needed was just a few words before he could actually imagine throwing himself onto his would-be soldier lover. Dean blushed deeply as the intensity of his fantasies escalated.

Cas smiled at him, "I'm glad I caught your attention with that," he pulled himself off the truck and walked over to be directly in front of the ½ inch taller man, "Like I'd said, I want to see you smile and I want to be the one who put it there. Dean, will-"

An army jeep careened into the parking lot and came to a halt against another vehicle. A dishevelled man clambered out, wearing a white lab coat. He frantically grabbed a silver case from the back seat before running toward the sector 5 base.

"Come ON!" Cas shouted in frustration, turning and stalking toward the jeep with his rifle up, "God damn interruptions!" He growled as he cocked the gun, though before he could shout 'who's there', he noticed the scuzzy looking man fumbling toward the base.

"Oh thank God!" The scruffy scientist exclaimed when he saw Castiel. "Where are the others? I need coverage! We need to get the hell out of this town, it's never going to last! If we get out in the next couple of hours, we should be able to recover from the toxins at my back up lab in D.C." The man counted something off quickly on his fingers. "Say, how long do you figure it'll be before the Forces HQ decides to bomb and quarantine?"

"Oh, where are my manners... I know! EATEN BY GENETICALLY MUTATED SCIENCE EXPERIMENT REJECTS! That aside, I'm Dr. Edlund, but you can just call me Chuck." He turned his attention to Castiel, although it never really left him. Dean wasn't even sure if his existence registered on Chuck's radar. "You are far, far too late. The outbreak happened in the lab nearest the gate. It flooded into here, the sector 5 complex, and the town, before the warning was even sent out. Some of the off-duty soldiers may even have been caught off guard while resting. But that doesn't matter, our priorities are survival and getting out of here pronto!"

Chuck clambered into the passenger seat of Castiel's Chevy, "Well? What are you waiting for, soldier? Let's go!" Chuck could easily tell that Castiel had no intention of listening to some random scientist, leaving without orders or answers, and abandoning comrades. But he could hope.

The jeep's entrance was less than graceful, and even less appreciated. Dean knew that they were awaiting the arrival of others so that they could start on an escape plan and eventually get out alive without becoming food for the monsters –or skin. And with Castiel at his side, Dean really wanted to get out alive. But goddamn it, couldn't he have waited just 30 seconds?

Cas sighed heavily, he recognized this scientist. He glanced at Dean and nodded in Chuck's direction as the scatter-brained man approached, mouthing the words 'the brains'. "Hello, Chuck," Cas said after Chuck finished rattling off his mouthful of information and babbling, "I'm going to have to ask you to calm down for a second and tell me what the hell happened here. I haven't called HQ about this yet, do you know if they're coming? Are they actually going to drop bombs to quarantine the town?" he was frustrated, being interrupted when he was about to ask Dean out again, and now apparently a scientist was scared out of his wits.

Chuck just stared blankly at Castiel like the man was either stupid or insane. "I'm a scientist! The only soldiers that I get to boss around are you guys, then ones who were stationed here for my research. Do you think I suddenly became an officer while you were gone? **I** can't just call up the armed forces headquarters and say 'Hey, bomb the town.' One of the military guys is supposed to do that! Haven't you seen 'Stonehenge Apocalypse?' The scientists can't do anything!"

Cas had watched Chuck climb into his truck and shook his head, "No no, okay first things first; you're sitting in the back, that spot's reserved for my baby. Second, I need answers before abandoning my post." He paused and realized how stupid that sounded; there was an outbreak of mutations and he was worried about his post? "Okay, nevermind that, but still. How many people are left? I read in the report that some people have natural immunities to these toxins, so won't we be safe? I mean, we should already be insane otherwise, right?"

He had to consider not just his life, Chuck's and Dean's lives, but the lives of all the civilians left in the town. He looked at Dean for a moment, hoping to find an answer there. He saw Dean's sadly underweight body, the way it was abused horribly, that constantly pained expression and look in his eyes, and remembered his promise. He wanted to save Dean, he promised it would be okay. If he went into that town now, not knowing if HQ was sending quarantine bombs, or even just staying too long and being shot by an infected civilian, he'd be letting Dean down, he'd be breaking his promise.

Chuck's arms were thrown up in the air like the entire world's IQ had dropped below 70 and he was the only one who understood what was going on. He dropped them to his sides, and dropped his head as well. "Alright, first: please lower your rifle, you're making me just a _little_ uncomfortable. Second, who's your baby?" Chuck looked over at Dean, and for once wasn't sure what to think.

The guy was a bit taller than Cas, but he looked horribly unhealthy. The oversized leather jacket tried to claim badass, but it wasn't filled, and what should've been strong shoulders were slumped, as though trying to hide. But those big soft eyes just screamed 'take me home, I'm wounded.' Chuck furrowed his brow, "Alright, are you insane? This guy's a civilian, what is he even doing here?"

Lost in thought he almost missed Chuck's plea for the lowering of his rifle, he figured it was probably a good idea since it generally made people nervous. However the man's reaction to Dean pissed him off a little more than he'd care to admit, "If I _were_ insane, I'd've killed you by now. And yes, he is my baby so don't mess with him. And are you implying that a civilian can't know about all of this? After his town has probably been destroyed by crazies? I think he has a right to know at least something about this, at the very least he can come with me."

Dean was starting to get pissed off too. Every question, every comment, and every word was directed to Castiel. Even when Dean was mentioned, it was still as though he weren't standing right there. "What I'm doing here is taking the position right above yours on the list of asses Castiel is gonna save in a bad situation. Look, I may just be a civilian, but at least I'm a civilian with a gun. But you, you're just a scientist. _He's_ the soldier, the one that's going to keep us alive? I suggest you calm the fuck down." Dean had his serious tone, and was mentally stepping up to the plate.

Jake never needed him, not before and not now. It took Dean a long while to realize that, and the more he realized, the less motivated he felt to live or do anything. His dad was dead, but it was never as though Dean could ever actually help the stubborn man. He just did what he did, the way he did it, and that was right. Sam was Dean's little brother, Sammy was the little brat that Dean was born to look out for, but by the time Sam left, he wasn't just running away from dad, he was running away from Dean, and Dean knew it. If Sam had stayed around, Dean would've given anything to help him out, just to keep him nearby, apparently Sam had a problem with that. It was never Sam's responsibility to watch out for Dean, and Dean never expected him to. But it would've been nice if Sammy had cared just a little.

With his family and his former boyfriend gone and rejecting him, Dean was pleasantly surprised that he'd found someone new to give himself to. The possibility of spending more time with Cas motivated Dean to get off his mental ass and do something, to give a shit about something. Castiel wanted him alive, so he'd better damn well be alive. Dean knew Cas couldn't afford to watch Dean every passing second, he needed to focus on other things, Chuck included. Dean needed to be more independent and more assertive, and he knew he could do that –it'd just been a real long time.

"Alright Rambo," Chuck replied, "Why do you have a gun? And better yet, why is it concealed?"

"No, here's a question for you: why haven't you shut up yet? Move it, you're in my seat."

Chuck shuffled a bit, not sure if he wanted to mess with this guy. At first he looked like nothing special, heck, he even looked pathetic. But somehow he commanded a strong voice that Chuck felt compelled to listen to. Or maybe it was the handgun. Chuck moved into the backseat.

Cas was shocked when Dean started in on Chuck as well, he could on stand back and watch the argument between the two, smiling. Dean was cute until now, but after this he actually managed to turn Cas on. Apparently all he needed was a disapproving look and a nasty tone from a scientist to get his butt in gear. Cas casually smirked at Chuck and nodded in Dean's direction, "What he said."

He smiled at Dean now, his eyes showing more than worry and concern. He mouthed the words, 'Proud of you' to Dean before his frisky love-interest talked Chuck into the backseat. "Ooh, I've got shivers," Cas said after belting Dean in, watching the blush flush onto his face again. Damn he was cute, Cas had never known a man to blush so often but Dean did it every time he said something flirtatious. It was adorable; he'd have to make a mental note to do it more often.

However Chuck had more business to discuss, this time about the immunities.

"From what I know, there are a select few people who have immunities to the toxins. If you've already engaged in close combat with one and you're still walking and talking, chances are you're immune. If you've only been breathing the stuff in, it could take a while, but signs would already be showing. Some people's immunities are more partial than full coverage, like there will be some mutations but no death, possible insanity."

"As for how many are left in the town? I don't know. The outbreak started in the north end, here in sector five. The entire sector complex has already fallen to pieces, and we're talking scientists who know what they're doing and trigger-happy soldiers. If they're all gone, I don't imagine the town stood a chance. With the variable immunities, some of the townspeople are probably alive and healthy, but they'll be killed by the insane soon enough. If we find survivors, feel free to toss them in the back of the truck, otherwise, can we not bother? Please?"

"Only partial?" Cas asked, "God damn it... What are the odds that all three of us are fully immune to this thing? I've already fought one of the original mutants off; it blasted a fair amount of toxins in my direction and I seem to be okay still." He wasn't sure if he was allowed to make the judgement call on whether or not he'd lost his mind, though no one had particularly assumed he was crazy yet so he figured he was alright. Cas took a deep breath and tried to think of how possible it would be for them to save anyone in town. From what Chuck had just told him, it was highly unlikely.

"If the toxins are what took sector 5 down then the town will fall similarly, if the mutants are what took the complex down then the town doesn't stand a chance. I really hope it was the toxins,"

He looked at Dean, his promise to the man repeating in his mind, over and over. Determination came over his face, "Unless Dean wants to stay and see what we can do for the town, we're leaving." He walked to Dean's side and placed a hand on his shoulder, "I want to save you, from what you told me no one tried to help you through anything, even though they saw it happening. I feel no need to stay for them, but if you want to then I'll do it."

Dean was surprised to find Castiel giving him the choice of staying or leaving. Dean followed the hand on his shoulder up Cas' arm and looked into his eyes, "You're leaving this to me?" Dean was touched by how dedicated Castiel was to saving his life, he didn't really understand the motivation there, but he really appreciated it. A loud metal scraping sound caught everyone's attention, and it was evident that Castiel had moved into a "shoot first, don't bother with any more questions" mentality. Cas' eyes snapped in that direction only to see the General of the base dragging an issued rifle along a nearby jeep, his walk seemed awkward, though Cas could already tell it wasn't one of the mutations, just a victim of the toxins. "Forget it," he muttered, turning and shooting the man, "I'm calling HQ for the quarantine, we're getting the hell out of here."

Lifted into Castiel's arms again, Dean hugged him briefly. Cas always let go too soon, but Dean knew that they really had no time for that. He found himself gently placed in the front seat. Cas looked into his eyes again and gave a quick nod, "Buckle up, beautiful, it's gonna be a bumpy ride." Dean blushed again, he loved how much of a flirt Castiel was. Cas slammed the door and ran around to his side, he didn't bother to belt himself in as he started the engine and floored it out of there. He took out his army issued phone and called his headquarters.

Dean and Chuck heard Cas give the explanation the best he could, possibly handing it off to Chuck to explain certain things further. After that he hung up and forced the pedal to the floor, "We got 10 minutes," he said solemnly, glancing over at Dean, "Then they'll be taking over from there." He wasn't sure how Dean was feeling about all of this; relieved, angry, depressed, or maybe even happy. He just couldn't be sure. "We're going to the town over, hopefully they're untouched by all of this."

"Wait, they're shutting down the town? I have to get my car. You don't understand how important she is, I need to get her. Please! Go to the diner!"Ten minutes or no ten minutes, Dean was not leaving that town without his car. The military taking over could simply mean the quarantine Castiel had asked for, not necessarily a bomb.

Cas cursed under his breath. He knew that the car had to mean something big if Dean was willing to risk his life to go get it. Cas started toward the diner, what kind of future-boyfriend would he be if he didn't do this for Dean now? It'd be an endless fight, plus he'd feel like shit afterward, and he knew that much. "Alright, we'll go get her for you."

Pulling up to the diner it looked like it hadn't changed at all since they'd left, though it hadn't been that long. Cas had to wonder why they hadn't heard anything about the outbreak if they were at the diner when it happened? _Charlie's_ would've been one of the first places to get hit, wouldn't it? Or maybe not... He wasn't sure how the toxins worked exactly so he wasn't going to question it just yet. As Dean was about to hop out of the car Cas took hold of his arm. As if knowing what was going through the soldier's head, Dean reassured him, promising he'd follow.

"I'll follow you," Dean looked at Castiel, who he saw was very uncomfortable with letting Dean out of his truck. "I'll be fine, and I'll keep close. We've gotta get out of here ASAP, so let's go." Cas hesitated but let go, giving Dean a trusting nod. He didn't want to let go, he wanted to pull Dean into a kiss and hold him there, part of him felt like this would be the only chance he got to do it. However it wasn't the same part of him that gave him such amazing luck, so he wasn't so willing to believe it.

Dean, too, contemplated leaning over and giving Castiel a kiss, just in case this was his last chance to ever do it. Still too awkward to act on it, instead he just slid out of the truck and walked to his car –running was just not an option.

"Stay close, okay?" he shouted as Dean trotted to his car.


	6. Chapter 6

Sam had jumped on his plane only to discover that the town that Dean was in was a town over from where the plane would be landing. He'd have to find a way there after he touched ground again. He was frustrated but there wasn't much he could do about it at this point. The flight wasn't that long, though as impatient as Sam was, it felt like days. As soon as he landed he grabbed his bags and booked it out the door of the airport, his phone in his hand and dialing Dean's number. When it was answered, either by answering machine or Dean himself, Sam didn't wait before starting to talk, "Dean! Where are you? I flew into the town over from yours; I'm at the airport now. I want to see you too, I'm not sure what predicament you're in right now but please, if you can, come get me so we can talk, okay? Dean?"

* * *

><p>Trying hard to resist the urge to kiss Castiel before leaving the truck was not easy when the strong soldier took him by the arm in a protective protest to Dean leaving his presence. Dean's reassurances seemed to calm Castiel a little, but only a little. When Dean hopped out of the truck, he had Castiel's handgun at the ready. He was glad Cas hadn't asked for it back, he knew that Dean had it by now. Silently whispering "I love you," in case he died without ever receiving the chance to say it again, he continued his bee-line path to his car. Dean appreciated Castiel's concern for him, and Cas still calling to him after he nearly made it to his car just made Dean smile.<p>

Dean climbed into his car, caressing the steering wheel and dashboard in a caring apology. "I'd never leave you behind, baby," he cooed as he consoled his car. Belting up, Dean checked his rear view mirror before following Castiel out. To his immediate surprise and horror, the diner cook was in the back seat of his car, half of his face melted off due to what Dean assumed to be the result of the toxins. The cook stared at him for an agonizing few grisly seconds, flesh still dripping from his face, before lunging forward. Dean slid down in his seat to avoid the first assault and soon after fired off a round from the handgun into the crazy's face. The head blew off in less than a second, bits of brain, eyeball, and bodily fluids flew off and the body dropped on Dean and twitched. Dean kicked the thing off, and it slid half onto the passenger seat and half onto the floor. Dean wiped his face off, trying hard not to breathe. He spat any blood out that landed his mouth. Not to get left behind, Dean rolled out after Castiel, bringing with him a very unwanted hitchhiker.

Dean realized too late that he should have kicked the body out before driving. The twitching form spewed out black noxious gases from its missing headspace, filling the car with ickerous black smoke. Dean covered his mouth with one hand and his other frantically rolled down the window. His knee was propped up on the steering wheel to keep driving straight.

As they left the town, Cas watched overhead as jets and helicopters flew by, his eyes trying to see what types they were, to know if bombs were gonna fall. _'They won't attempt to fight it first, after what I said about the toxins they wouldn't risk that, would they?'_ His concerns weren't calmed any when he saw the armoured vehicles passing them by as well. The driver's appeared to be wearing hazmat suits, though Cas had to wonder how well that would work for them if the crazies tore through it. Then again they would probably need some kind of ground force to help them out.

He sighed heavily as he escaped with what looked like few others.

The next town wasn't far off, but heading out of town while numerous armoured vehicles pulled in and jets flew over head made the whole experience seem somehow longer. Dean pulled up behind Cas at the first rest stop in town. He checked his phone –one missed call. Opening his voice mail, Dean was floored when he heard Sam's voice –Sam's emotionally charged and worried voice. Dean's eyes watered up, "He came." Dean hopped out of the car, "Castiel, we have to head to the airport. My brother came to get me." Dean wasn't aware that it sounded like he was leaving, because he wasn't but it could be taken that way.

"Your brother came?" He asked incredulously.

Dean's appearance at the rest stop spooked Castiel. Leave the guy alone for just a few minutes and he nearly dies. "Thank you," Dean said quickly when Cas sort of folded to going to the airport, the tone in his voice kind of gave it away. Dean booked it back to his car, promptly kicked the body out, and took off to the airport.

"What do you mean to get you?" Dean was already in his car and ready to go before Cas could add that last question. His chest felt heavy as he pulled out of the rest stop, the thought of losing Dean so soon bothered him. Would he really leave to be with Sam? A brother that seemed to abandon him when Dean needed him most? These thoughts clouded his mind and vision, he hadn't seen the body left where Dean was parked.

Dean had parked the Impala in airport visiting and quickly walked inside. He would've run, his excitement had the better of him by far. He looked around, the airport was huge. "Sammy?" Dean called, looking around for his brother. Of course, his cell phone would have worked much better.

Cas' mind was swarming with questions by the time they reached the airport. He parked next to Dean who was too excited to wait for him. Cas knew that this town probably wasn't infected yet, though he still wasn't comfortable letting Dean venture out alone. Cas jumped out of the truck and ran in after him.

Sam had plopped himself down near the entrance of the airport, wishing Dean would get back to him soon. He figured he'd wait another 20 minutes, if he didn't get a reply by then he'd start walking. As he counted down the minutes on his watch he heard a familiar voice, though it sounded more pained than he remembered, "Dean?" he stood up and looked over at the messy-haired man in a leather jacket, "Dean!" Sam grabbed his bags and jogged over there.

"Sammy?" Dean ran around the airport, receiving crazed stares from those waiting to board. Dean heard Sam's reply; it had been so long since he'd seen or heard his brother, it almost came as a shock to him. His tears welled up, "Sammy!" Dean grabbed Sam in a tight hug when Sam jogged up to him. Dean trembled slightly, overjoyed to see his little brother again. True enough to Sam's observation, Dean's voice had taken on an almost permanent edge of pain and rasp acquired from years of submission and stifled screams.

Cas made it to Dean's side and saw the rather large looking man approach them, at first Sam didn't seem too big, though once he was next to them Cas realized his error. 'Sammy' was huge. His was tall and buff and had great hair. Cas realized where Dean must've gotten his taste in men from, or at least figured it. He wasn't quite sure what kinds of men Dean liked, but judging from the way he'd been beaten up he had a tendency toward the large, muscular types.

Sam immediately dropped his things to the floor again and wrapped his arms around his brother, resting his head on Dean's shoulder. "Oh my god Dean," he muttered as he felt how small Dean was now, the last time they'd seen one another was years ago at John's funeral and Sam hadn't quite filled out yet. So his memory of Dean was the older, stronger brother. That wasn't the case anymore. "I'm so sorry," he felt a hot sting in his eyes, forcing him to squeeze them shut, "I'm so sorry Dean."

Cas couldn't help but smile at that, apparently his brother wasn't a total dick after all, he watched Dean's face for a reaction, hoping to see a genuine smile.

"You don't have to apologize, Sammy," Dean murmured into Sam's jacket, tears streaming down his face. In Sam's arms he felt so small. His own brother, his little brother, was a healthy, strong, and fit man and what was Dean? A shrivelled shadow of what Sam remembered. For his brother's memory of him, Dean regretted seeing him now. It would've been better if Sam never knew how easy it was to take Dean apart.

"What's going on?" Sam said after a long pause of just hugging Dean, moving backward to look at his brother's face again, "What's the military doing in your hometown?"

"It's top secret," Cas muttered, "A big top secret fuck up. The government's scientists had a job and the screwed it up enough that the military got involved. The town will probably be bombed,"

Sam looked at Cas, furrowing his brow along with a glaring look was enough to make Cas second guess his next answer, "What do you mean the town will be bombed? Aren't they going to try to find a different solution before just blowing it up?" He sounded angry, and Castiel didn't blame him.

Sam pulled away to take a look at him, and Dean tried to hide his face. When Sam asked what was going on, Dean was grateful for Cas stepping in and answering for him. In true Sam fashion, the military's answer was never the right one. Dean couldn't help but laugh at that, some things never change.

"It's an airborne toxin that's very destructive to one's mental stability," Cas kept his voice low so as not to let anyone else in on it. He was personally very pissed off with the whole project to begin with, though he hadn't quite made up his mind about whose side he was on. "They've sent in soldiers wearing protective gear, though there are jets flying overhead. I'd go as far as to assume that the jets are carrying missiles to blow the place up, though I had only made the call a few hours earlier. My gut tells me they aren't going to just bomb it, though I'd feel much better if they did."

Chuck came in on Cas like a hurricane, "STOP STOP STOP!" He yelled at Castiel. "Would you just shut up? I understand telling "your baby" what's going on, but yapping it up in an airport with a stranger? Top secret is still top secret, and BOTH of us could lose our jobs over this!" Chuck was more panicked than he was furious. "Don't you care?"

Sam shook his head, currently ignoring Chuck, "You'd feel better? They're going to bomb a town full of oblivious, innocent people!"

"All the people left in that town that would have survived the toxins have been assumedly killed by those who didn't have an immunity." Cas continued the conversation, also ignoring Chuck.

"Assumedly?" Sam squinted at Cas, "As in, you don't know?"

"Look, I got your brother out of there alive," Cas snapped back, stepping in front of Sam with a solid stomp of his boot, "That should be enough for you. Leave the concerns about the civilians to the people who can actually do something about it. As far as you know, you would be infected as soon as you entered the town and you'd be as useless as the rest of my goddamn squadron. The comrades I entered the town with are all either dead or crazy, I don't have the patience to spend on this moral debate."

Sam was surprised how much Castiel's angry tone sounded like their father's, though he was more surprised at how he reacted to it. He'd straightened his shoulders and shut the hell up until Cas finished. He realized that Cas had a point, however. Dean was alive now, probably thanks to his efforts. "I'm sorry," Sam relaxed his posture, "And thank you. I'm Sam, nice to meet you." He stuck his hand out to the soldier who took a firm hold of it.

"Castiel, it's a pleasure." Cas had calmed down, it seemed.

Dean felt awful for the whole argument. After Castiel- to Dean's honest surprise- managed to shut Sam up, Dean tried to explain it better, the part that Castiel wouldn't say directly. "Sam, Castiel wanted to go back and help people. I mean hell; he wanted to save the entire town. And he would've tried too, but he left entirely for my sake Sam. Don't blame Cas for the town."

He looked over at Dean and gave him a nod, "I'll give the two of you a moment together if you need it but I'd like to get moving to Chuck's lab, if he has a way to de-tox us I'm all over that. I'll meet you outside." And, as if to prove a point to Sam, he gave Dean a soft kiss on the cheek before walking out the doors. Dean flushed a bright red. He shot Castiel a look, and even he wasn't sure what it was for. His face was burning hot, and he wanted another, but Castiel never turned back, just kept on walking.

Sam's eyebrows shot up in that surprised way they always did, "What was that?" He smiled over at Dean, "Did you get yourself a gay soldier lover? How rare is that!" He laughed a little, "I'm just kidding, Dean. I'm happy you met someone like him."

Dean noticed Sam was a little awkward, trying to make jokes to lighten things up. He was more than happy to see Dean again, and Dean could tell without even an opportunity to twist it in any way. Dean laughed a bit, "I called him that, to myself anyway. Hey, did you even know I was gay?" Dean didn't remember coming forward with that with his family. On the other hand, Sam was a pretty smart guy.

He shrugged his massive shoulders, "I had an idea that you were, gay I mean." He chewed on the inside of his cheek for a moment, "It wasn't really a voicemail, I had picked up after you talked for a bit..." He wasn't sure how to respond, Dean obviously didn't want to tell him much, though they both knew that Sam would end up asking a million questions if he didn't just start talking.

Sam shuffled awkwardly, wandering where he should start with the conversation, "So... how are you?" Part of him knew the answer, though he felt he should ask anyway. Sam felt a little bad for asking Dean to answer these questions in a crowded airport. He wished they were in the Impala, just the two of them, so he could get some straight answers and possibly some details.

"How am I?" Dean asked, "Hooo boy, where to start. Uhh," Dean wondered if now at the airport was the best time to be telling Sam all of this. He wondered if he even wanted to tell him. "Well you got my suicidal voice mail, I take it." Dean tried to find a good lead in. Sam always had a right to know. Doesn't matter who's business it was. He was always a curious kid, so it would make sense that he wanted to know what Dean was going through, and wasn't just asking for the sake of asking. "Well I had this boyfriend, Jake? He was uhh, ... He wasn't such a great guy. I mean, he looked good, and drove a really nice car, but he had his issues. I mean," Dean looked left and right, trying to find the words to explain what had happened.

"Well the short version is this: he was hyped up on testosterone, steroids, cocaine, and number of other things. He owed a lot of shady people a lot of money. I had been with him for a while and... well I sold dad's shop. I didn't want to! He... he forced me to. Said if I didn't... Well at first I didn't, so I found out. He beat the living crap outta me, Sammy. I was in the hospital for two weeks, the first three days were coma. After that, I just didn't want to mess with him. That wasn't the first time I'd been in the hospital, and I didn't want to go again." Dean furrowed his brow, fighting back tears. He hated how much he'd been crying lately, hated even more that he would cry in front of Sam.

Sam was relieved when Dean began to tell the story, his attention fully on his brother now, his mind moving quickly to understand it all at once. Possibly attempting to find different angles as to the why's and how's of the situations he'd been given. Dean went for a guy after their dad had died, meaning that he probably felt that since John was gone he could do things he'd always secretly wanted to do. However, the way Dean went about it was probably a spiteful thing, doing it because his dad didn't want him to, a way to get back at John for leaving him.

That Sam figured he had right, though there were probably some other details he was a little fuzzy on. For example, the guy looked good and drove a nice car; similar to John? Sam couldn't be sure, though Dean always had a tendency to enjoy family a little more than he should.

"Wait wait wait, these beatings and the other shit _started_ after he told you to sell dad's shop! Why did you stay with him in the first place! After he forced you to sell dad's shop to get his ass out of a bind was probably the best time to get the hell out of there. Why did you stay so long?" Sam couldn't help the questions that came out, he was completely and utterly shocked that his brother could have been this stupid. He stopped his rampage of questions and 'are you retarded' comments when he saw the brim of tears in Dean's eyes.

Sam's semi-aggressive confusion over Dean's decision to stay put bugged Dean more than he could admit. It didn't seem like a stupid idea at the time, yeah it probably looked dumb from the outside, but when you're there in the moment it's not the same. Dean was waiting for Sam's appraisal of his physical state and he felt the need to explain this to Sam, or it would bug them both, "You must think I'm the stupidest person in the world, don't you?" Dean asked Sam, blatantly disappointed in himself. "How could I possibly walk out on someone I love when I'm so terrified of being left alone? How would that make any sense?"

"Dean..." Sam sighed and shook his head, "Sorry, I've never been in a situation like that, I shouldn't criticize you." _'Though if it were me I know I'd have punched the guy out the first time I ended up in the hospital because of him... Better not say that out loud.'_

Dean felt the dread growing in the pit of his stomach while Sam took a brief pause to censor his original impression. Dean knew something felt off, but he didn't feel like it was a mental problem. From what he gathered from Chuck and Castiel, this virus thing affected the mind, and then the infected individual went crazy and often gave off toxic gas. They must have had scenarios where the toxins poisoned someone, or maybe that just killed them. Dean was at least grateful for the partial immunity, it was better than being dead.

"Whatever, it sucked. My life sucks. Beatings, insults, theft, rape, all of it. It sucked," Dean didn't want to delve into more details, so he lifted his shirt to show Sam the same tell-tale detailing he showed Castiel at the diner. "Anyway, this military business," Dean tried to change the subject. He wanted to tell Sam everything, hug him and cry until next Tuesday. But that was the recent voice of that quitter in his mind, the one who wanted to drop off the face of the earth.

"There are these zombie things, I don't know how else to describe it. Supposedly there was a top secret government plan to create a cure for cancer. Bullshit, if you ask me. But it backfired and required military intervention to maintain peace. These mutated people send off toxins. Whatever the cure did it breaks down their brain and makes 'em crazy. They're just killers. Homicidal crazies." Dean stopped to think about the one in his car. His expression turned sceptical and slightly paranoid.

"Sam, I don't want you telling anybody about this," Dean glanced around again. "There are some people who are immune, and then there are the people who aren't. But a few have half immunities. The point is, there was one in my car back in the town. I shot it, but it spewed out nasty-ass black fumes all over my car. I don't know if I'm going to be ok. Can we head over to the washroom? Maybe you could give me a look over and make sure I'm not deforming or anything. I don't feel crazy, but I'm just not sure. I'm kinda scared." Dean looked pleadingly with Sam.

Dean's subject change and his next words had Sam in a silent, awe-struck state for longer than he'd anticipated. "Wait," he leaned in and whispered, "You mean there's some kind of zombie toxic gas going around and you're possibly infected? Do I have that right?" He stared at Dean's pleading look to join him in the bathroom and couldn't turn him down, "Okay, okay..." he followed his brother to the restrooms. He wasn't sure he believed the 'zombie apocalypse' story, though after seeing what was under Dean's shirt changed his mind pretty quick.

Dean pulled Sam into the larger handicapped restroom, not caring about the looks they got because it was true, Dean was gay. He also didn't care if Sam protested: he owed him at least this much. "Ok, let me know if you see anything weird." Dean removed his jacket and shirts, looking his torso over to try and identify any oddities.

Sam could see it clearly, and it may or may not drain the blood from his face. There were black etchings all over Dean's back. They looked like veins and bruised skin. His back moved, swelled with unseen movement just beneath the skin's surface. Something was in there, and it looked grotesque.

"Holy hell..." Sam muttered, his eyes widening as he watched it move.

Did you just say 'holy hell'?" Dean's brow furrowed with worry; apparently it was worse than he thought. Which was good and bad at the same time; it hurt Dean that even after all those apologies, Sam was still sceptical of everything Dean said. Didn't Sam owe him as much? Having to prove every detail to the stubborn man would be more than a pain in the ass.

"Uhm... I see something weird, Dean." Sam tried to sound as casual as he could, though he wasn't sure how he felt about disturbing mutations in his brother's back. He felt a strong urge to freak out and drag Dean to a hospital.

"What do you mean, 'weird'?" Dean waited, trying to turn his head around to at least get a look at Sam since he couldn't see his own back. He could see something odd on his shoulder, though. The concentration of tangled black veins on his back spread to his blood system. The arteries and veins visible near the surface of the skin began to run black. The blood flow pathways seemed to pulsate, with the source of it coming from Dean's back, as though he had a second heart.

"It looks like something's..." _'Crawling in there... better not say that out loud either.'_ "You know what, let's let Castiel see this, or that sketchy scientist guy. Or, better yet, let's get you to a hospital." He didn't want to believe the things he'd been told, but after seeing the squirming veins in Dean's back he realized he didn't have that luxury.

"It looks like something is _what_?" Dean was becoming more and more concerned by the second, and Sam's half finished sentences were not helping. Obviously he was trying to keep something from Dean, to keep him calm. It wasn't working too well. "You want to get Castiel? Wait, a hospital? Sam, what's going on? What's wrong with me?" Dean couldn't help but cringe at the irony, not too long ago he was trying to find a way to die, and now a way to die found him. This was just peachy.


	7. Chapter 7

_Earlier..._

Cas had walked away from the brothers, dragging Chuck along with him. He didn't look at the scientist as he spoke, though his words were obviously directed in Chuck's direction, "I understand what kind of trouble we'll be in if this gets out, but I said it quietly enough that no one else heard it. Plus a whole town has been surrounded by the military; there are, if you want to believe it or not, other intelligent people in the world, Chuck. They will figure it out on their own and they will let the rest of the world know. Currently our lives and everyone else's lives are in danger if we don't do something about it, understand me? I don't give a shit about my job, if that's your concern then I suggest you get your priorities straight."

He wanted to say so much more to Chuck's worrying and annoying comments, though he knew that it was a bad idea to mistreat Chuck too much, after all, he was the only one with a lab in D.C. that they could possibly de-tox in. "Let's just take this one step at a time," he said casually as he let go of Chuck outside the airport. He glanced over at Dean's car and thought back to the rest stop; _'Why did he look so much worse when we stopped?'_ His mind swarmed different ideas but settled on none.

Chuck winced at the death grip Cas had on his arm. "Ok ok! I get it!" He whined, trying to wriggle free. "My priorities are completely straight, bomb the town, stop the experiments, and never deal with that again. Erase all of it and forget it. If we can do that, without alerting the world to the mess up, everything will be just fine."

Curiosity got the better of him and he marched over to the Impala, his eyes peering into the window as he got closer. Dread settled into his features as he saw the remnants of Dean's struggle on the seats of the car, a rather disturbing splatter pattern told him it had obviously hit Dean. _'Why didn't he tell me!'_ Cas thought frantically, he was about to run back inside when he saw the way the floor of the Impala had been just slightly warped, as if hit by a high-pressure blast of toxins. _'Of course, he shot it in his car... Damn it Dean!'_

Chuck scuffled along after him. Chuck saw Castiel's expression before seeing the car's interior. "There's one in the backseat, isn't there?" Chuck couldn't help but think they were in some movie. If it was in the backseat, it was a little late.

Cas cautiously walked around the side of the car, hoping to God he wasn't going to see what he expected to. Judging by the pool of blood on the floor of the Impala, the corpse had been there for a while. Which meant that Dean only booted it out recently. Luckily, he wasn't stupid enough to bring it all the way into the next town.

Chuck peered into the car –maybe it wasn't late after all. The toxin splatters concerned him. "If Dean was hit by that, and he was still sane by the time we arrived in this town, he's not going to lose his mind, that happens pretty quickly. He should be ok."

"Oh my god!" Chuck threw his arms up in the air with defeat. "If your men don't make it to that body before one of the many truck drivers called it in to a hospital, then we're screwed! That's it, the world is over!" Chuck dropped his arms in an over dramatic fashion to his sides.

Cas breathed a sigh of relief, though he knew where the corpse was now, at the rest stop. He pulled out his army-issued cell and called headquarters again, informing them of the possible contamination site.

After his relatively un-fun conversation, he hung up and slowly turned to look at Chuck, "Okay, get in the truck we have to get to your lab, pronto. Dean's been in his car with a mutated corpse for an extended period of time," he wasn't sure what to do now, what were the odds that Dean had an immunity to this thing? Not terribly high. "I'll be right back." He booked it into the airport, looking for Dean and Sam.

"Yes sir, captain sir." Chuck hopped into the back seat of the truck and awaited Castiel's return.

* * *

><p>"You want to get Castiel? Wait, a hospital? Sam, what's going on? What's wrong with me?" Before Dean could get an answer out of Sam, there was a loud knocking at the door. Dean jumped, startled and his nerves were completely fried. He raised a hand to his chest to try and calm himself, and turned his back away from the door.<p>

"Dean?" Castiel's voice rang through the door, "Dean are you in there?"

"Castel? Yeah, I'm here." What perfect timing.

"Yeah," Sam called back as well, also startled by the sudden knocking, "We're in here."

Cas wasn't sure he wanted to ask why they were in a bathroom together, it was either hilarious, something mutated related, or just plain wrong. "Let me in."

Sam glanced at Dean, figuring it was okay to let his soldier lover into the room and opened the door. For anyone watching, the image of three men cramming into a bathroom was one they wouldn't soon forget.

Dean was hesitant at Castiel's prompt to let them in, but Sam seemed to think it a good idea. The last time Dean saw Castiel tangle with an infected, it was his own officer –someone he had worked with before. Cas didn't even check for infection before blowing the man's head open. Dean was worried when Castiel entered the bathroom. Dean shifted, trying to keep his back out of sight from Castiel, but to no avail. Cas turned him around to take a look, and became immediately disheartened.

Cas gently, though firmly, turned him around and lifted his shirt. He felt a wave of sorrow hit him as he watched the black veins and disturbing movement in Dean's back. He let go of the older Winchester and slid his hand down his face in thoughtful frustration, "Why didn't you tell me?" His gravelly voice sounded strained as he spoke.

"Is there a cure?" Sam asked hopefully.

"We just _made_ the goddamn virus!" Cas shouted, though it wasn't a violent outburst. "We couldn't have possibly..." he trailed off and leaned against the nearest wall, his head lowered as he tried to think of something, "I don't know... Chuck said something about a lab in D.C. If we can make it there, then maybe..." He looked at Dean, his blue eyes searching for some kind of answer. "We need to leave."

Dean panicked, the strain in Castiel's voice and his frustrated expression set off Dean's 'hostile environment' alarms. "I'm so sorry, Castiel," Dean's voice dropped to pleading instantaneously. "Please don't be mad at me, and didn't want this. I didn't do it on purpose, I swear!" Dean knew there was no way he could've done it on purpose, but he didn't want Castiel to be mad with him. "I didn't tell you because... because I thought' you'd kill me." Dean's eyes were watering while keeping eye contact with Castiel. Dean desperately wanted a chance with Castiel, and this virus thing may very well have blown that chance to bits, blown his entire future to bits.

All of the talk of lab's and no cure only increased the mental terrors Dean was putting himself through. So what if they went to a hospital? They wouldn't know what to do. Hell, they'd probably drag the military in. There'd be nothing Castiel could do when his superior officers took Dean away as a test subject. Dean was probably one of their only surviving specimens, depending on what they were doing to the town. Images of sterile white rooms, needles and other medical equipment flashed through Dean's mind as he envisioned a future as a science lab rat. Alone.

Dean was about to break down in tears when Castiel held him tight. Surprised but happy, Dean clung to him like Castiel was his last hope in the world. This time Castiel didn't let go too soon, he held on and whispered in Dean's ear, "I'm sorry; I promised you something and failed in the first few hours. I hope you can forgive me." He closed his eyes and remembered Dean's face in the diner, the way he spoke sounded like he'd fall into millions of tears, leaving nothing behind him. He would have given Dean the world if he'd had it, just to save that fading smile.

"_I will protect you. Please, let me save you."_

The relief that washed over Dean's features after he said that was more than enough for him, the plethora of new expressions and looks he got out of Dean were bonuses. He felt like he'd betrayed all of that, he hadn't kept his promise. He even dragged Dean out there with him to sector 5; it was his fault Dean was infected in the first place. He clenched his jaw, trying his hardest to stay focused, but he couldn't stop at least two tears that slid down his cheeks. "I'm so sorry..." he mumbled almost incoherently.

Dean forced himself to speak despite his mounting emotional strains, "Don't say that," he sobbed, "Don't apologize yet –it sounds like..." Dean's voice caught and he took a moment to get out the rest of it. "...like you've given up on me. I'll forgive you for failing, but never for quitting."

Castiel's phone rang. The two exchanged glances, Castiel's was apologetic, Dean's was begging him not to go. With Castiel's parting excusal, Dean hugged Sam tight, burying his face in his brother's chest. "What do I do? Sammy..."

Sam placed his arms around his brother and rested his head on top of Dean's, "Don't worry, Dean. It'll be okay; I'll never let anyone treat you like that again. And don't start thinking like you're the older brother and you take care of me and all that crap. We're family, we take care of one another, it's a mutual thing. Don't take it all on yourself, I can help you too." He was whispering as he listened to Cas' distressed tone, he could tell that the soldier was in a tight spot. Cas clearly cared about Dean, though he had a tough time showing it properly, just like their dad. Sam wished he could show Dean Cas' intentions, though he figured it'd be clearer later on.

He flipped the phone open, "Hello?... Yes, that was me. Yes. ...I understand sir. ...No sir, just a scientist and a civilian. ... ... Chuck-... Yes, that scientist. ... Dean Winchester... Yes sir, Winchester..." Cas glanced over at the bathroom that Sam had been casually holding open to listen in. "Excuse me sir? No I... What? You can't-!" he stopped, his brow furrowed, "With all due respect, sir, we've already seen the results of this endeavour. Please, shut it down." Cas' tone was hard to place, he was trying to be respectful but shoot down someone's idea at the same time. Judging from all the 'sirs' Sam figured it was a superior officer. "What is it even accomplishing! Sir!" He growled as he pulled the phone away from his ear, apparently having been hung up on.

Castiel didn't say anything after closing his phone, just motioned for the brothers to follow him out. Dean couldn't help but think he was angry with them, with him.

Sam gave Dean a reassuring smile and pat on the shoulder, "You'll be okay," he whispered as they followed Castiel to the parking lot. Dean quickly grabbed his shirt and fumbled to put it back on, followed by his jacket. Falling in step beside his brother, Dean followed Castiel back out to his truck, where the soldier opened the door for Chuck to listen as well.

"That was headquarters, they're bombing the town."

"What!" Sam shouted, "But you said-"

"It doesn't matter what I said, it isn't my decision to make."

'_Bombing the town? So I will be the only living infected person. Fantastic. Well at least they're not-'_

"They're also continuing the experiments in different facilities..." He glanced at Chuck for a moment before looking back to the Winchesters, "There are two other sectors being set up by each one, though I suspect they won't fare any better than we did. Even after I gave them the short list of who survived, Dean and Chuck, they still wanted to continue it..." he sighed heavily, "I'm not sure what to do, but right now I want to get Dean to Chuck's lab. Considering the situation, I'd like it if Dean came with me, Sam and Chuck in the Impala. Any objections?" he did his best to sound like he was confident in his choice, though he was really concerned for Dean. However, showing someone how worried you are doesn't calm them down any, and worrying them further wouldn't help slow the toxins down either.

Dean's heart sank. If this were anything like the movies then when they found out Dean survived the mutation with his mental faculties intact, they'd want to study him. Better yet, they'd simply want to erase their mistakes. If it got out, they'd be in a load of trouble, and Dean was just one inconsequential life. "Oh god."

"Are you sure getting to the lab is a good idea?" Dean asked Castiel, honestly concerned. "What if they turn me over to one of the new sectors? Or kill me? I don't want to go."

Dean sorely wished that Chuck would do something idiotic so he could yell at him again, that seemed to be the only time he was able to pull himself together. The rest of it was pain from the past, fear of the future, and general sadness. Just how weak had he let himself become? Every word from Castiel made him blush, every thought of danger rooted fear into his bones, and the thought of abandonment made him cry. It was a miracle that they were putting up with him. At least Chuck was honest. Even though he knew about this, every time a situation came up where he had an opportunity to change it, Dean's emotions took over and he couldn't begin to think from the outside about piecing himself together, just from the inside of what would happen to him next; but he was trying.

Cas had rambled off a bunch of things that he figured they needed to do, not noticing how Dean was feeling. He was more concerned with saving him than caring for him, which suddenly hit him like a ton of bricks when he saw how scared Dean was in his presence. _'Thought I would kill him?'_ Cas' mind flooded back to when he shot his commander in cold blood back at sector five. He closed his eyes and rubbed his face again. The sound of Dean's voice, pleading and begging, as if _he_were the one who had beaten him all these years.

He took Dean in his arms again and rubbed the back of his head, "I will never quit on you, never. I want to keep you safe and while doing that I lost sight of my goal." He pulled his head away to look Dean in the eye, tired of seeing that scared, sad expression. "I will take care of you; I want to be with you, Dean." At this moment he wasn't paying terribly close attention to Sam or Chuck, "Don't be scared of me, I would never hurt you on purpose, I swear." He leaned forward and gave Dean a gentle kiss on the lips, "I know you're scared," he whispered, "But nothing will take you from me, nothing. I don't care what I have to do."

Dean had realized a while back what Castiel's intentions were, but he just couldn't let himself believe it. Every action the soldier took, the concern he showed, and all those little tell-tale things he said. Nothing would take Dean from Castiel. The notion itself implies that Castiel already has Dean, and as far as Dean was concerned: that was just fine. It was more than fine, the thought of Castiel accepting him, being everything Dean needed –and wanting to do it too, it was all too good to be true. And then there were the kisses. Before they were like the ones you would give children, a kiss on the top of the head or a peck on the cheek. This time was different; Castiel kissed Dean on the lips. It was short and gentle, but it was still a kiss. It brought a sparkle to Dean's widening eyes as his cheeks broke out into yet another shade of pink. At the base of Dean's neck, the encroaching black veins were making claim to new territory. A few of the far reaching tips were visible just below Dean's jaw line.

"And I don't want Sam in the Impala, if those fumes are still lingering I don't want to chance my brother getting infected too."

"Are you both stupid?" Chuck interjected. "We're in a hurry, right?" And we're going a long way out to D.C., right? And we're AT A FREAKING AIRPORT!" Chuck's face remained in a comedic angry expression for several seconds after his outburst. "So why don't we just get on a plane, and fly there, hm?"

The discussions about the vehicles and who would sit where was a bit of a problem in Cas' head, he didn't want anyone exposed to that toxin longer than they had to be, but Dean's care was important. Chuck's outburst was comical and gave him a slap in the face, they were at an airport and they were talking about driving to D.C... Cas smacked his forehead and slid his hand down his face, "Oh for the love of..." he mumbled, "Okay, yeah... Let's get on a plane then."

Chuck continued, his expression changing very little, "We can come back for your precious vehicles _later_. They are not our priority, Dean's life is. And our safety, in the event that he hulks out or something. OH!" Chuck just made a discovery.

"Are you going to share with the class, Einstein?" Dean asked, a little bit annoyed with Chuck's bi-polar tendencies.

"You're unhealthy," Chuck pointed out to Dean matter-of-factly.

"So?"

"So that's why you're not handling this well. If your immune system were in peak condition, you probably had a pretty good chance of fighting off the infection, but you're sickly. You look hollowed out and stressed. It probably lowered your internal defences. If you really didn't want to go, then there's a possibility that you could get better with time and rest and some close monitoring. Let's get on a plane already." Chuck grabbed his briefcase and bounded back toward the airport terminals.

Chuck's sudden epiphany about Dean's health gave Castiel a burst of hope and determination, all Dean needed was a good amount of rest, love, and affection. He could supply that no problem, "Sounds great," he smiled that toothy smile of his, the confidence returning fully to his voice and posture. "I'm pumped, let's go." He took Dean's hand and started walking, he had more than enough government funds on him to pay for their flight, even enough to do it first class.

Dean shot a look at Sam, "I hate flying."

"You don't like flying?" he looked at Dean's face as they stood in the terminal, "Why not? It's incredible. You're up in the air, shooting high above everyone else, going unbelievably fast." He leaned over and kissed Dean's cheek, "Or is it the thought of crashing that you hate? Tell you what, if the plane starts going down, and we're certain we're gonna die, you and I will do it right in our seats. Sound like a plan?" He couldn't help the smile that had taken over his features. Dean was adorable, and Cas hoped he could show him the right amount of affection, or even a fraction of what he was starting to feel for him.

"Yeah I hate flying. You have no control of anything up there. If you start going down, it's over. I'd prefer to be the drive of my own car." Dean fidgeted anxiously in line, humming Metallica to calm himself. And then he caught what Castiel had said. "If we're certain we're going to crash, you wanna do what?" The just shy of trademark blush planted itself back on Dean's face when he turned to Castiel, shocked and excited at the thought of it.

"That's right," Chuck replied, "Who's the genius? Master Chuck! Now let's get on that plane. With our luck, it's leaving in ten minutes." Chuck paused and looked at Cas and Dean, "We're going to need to disarm you..." Their weaponry would not make it into airport security. Chuck was amazed that they had been able to meet up with Sam without being jumped. Castiel had a freaking rifle.

They had nestled into their seats after about a hour of waiting, Sam pat Dean's shoulder again for reassurance, "It's just a plane, nothing to worry about Dean. We're all here with you." He sat down and began to thoroughly enjoy the leg room.

"Oh my god, first class!" Chuck was stoked. For some reason, unless you were an ambassador or political figure, the government always sent you airfare via coach. First class was going to be awesome. Chuck trotted down the aisle and took an aisle seat so he'd have a better view of the in-flight movie. "I wonder what they're going to be showing? I bet it's better than regular seating."

Dean could hardly believe anyone could be that excited about a plane ride. "He's insane," Dean muttered to no one in particular.

Cas gripped Dean's hand to comfort him, still smiling. Eventually the plane took off and Cas' inner mechanisms told him he was as safe as he could get, better get a few Z's. It didn't take long, his eyes were closed and he dozed off, his head slumping to the side and falling on Dean's shoulder.

Dean was so focused on keeping himself calm that he was startled when Castiel's head made contact with his shoulder. His immediate thought was _'Oh god, he's dead,'_ but quickly realized from Castiel's softened and peaceful expression that he must be sleeping. Dean sighed and relaxed a bit.

Sam cooed a sarcastic "Awwww" at the sight, giving Dean a smirk. "Your soldier lover's so cute, sleeping on you like that." He was trying to tease Dean to make him feel better.

"He's not my lover yet, but we're working on that," Dean joked back, trying to reassure both himself and Sam that he was doing ok. "Thanks Sammy." Dean watched his brother relaxed, and was grateful for him that they were riding first class. Those gargantuan legs would have never fit into regular seats. Baffled that the two of them could sleep, Dean doubted he would be able to get comfortable enough –or calm down enough, to do the same.

God knows he needed the sleep. After the waiting in the airport, the travelling from town to town, the escaping from sector 5, running into a soldier in a diner, getting the hell beat out of him, and working his shift at the bar Dean was done. He'd barely eaten anything in the last 48 hours, and he definitely hadn't slept in that time either. Chuck's explanation of his worsening condition made a whole lot of sense, both in the macro and the micro. As tired as he was, the plane still scared the crap out of him. After two failed attempts where the slight turbulence jostled him awake and into a panic, Dean gave up and assumed a zombie-like fixation on the television.

What Chuck had said comforted Sam as well, if rest was all Dean needed then to hell with the labs and shit, just get him to a soft bed and feed him chicken noodle soup or something. Sam snuggled into his seat as well and just closed his eyes to rest them, his mind wandered to the exam he should have been writing that day. After a moment he realized that he was much more satisfied with what he was doing now, being with his brother was more important than writing an exam. He was glad he realized that before it was too late.


	8. Chapter 8

The plane landed around seven a.m. in D.C. airport. The landing procedures did little to wake the slumbering passengers, and Dean had the tightest death grip on the armrests next to him. They were going down. When driving a car, the straight-away on the highway was pretty safe. Sure, something could jump out in front of you, or an oncoming driver could be falling asleep, but typically it was fine. Dean assumed the same for planes. He'd had more than enough time to make hundreds of comparisons between airplanes and automobiles to try and convince himself that they weren't that different and this wasn't so bad. He concluded that since most accidents occur while changing direction or in a parking lot, the highest likelihood of something going wrong was either in take-off, which was fine, or it would be while landing. Apparently making comparisons only worried him more.

Dean looked over at Castiel and wondered if he should wake him. Dean was fairly certain that they were going to die, but Castiel probably wouldn't be. Dean quietly panicked away the ride down, and nearly fainted by the end of it. He was slumped in his seat when Castiel stirred.

Cas opened his eyes again, "We're here?" he asked groggily, his eyes slowly blinking and adjusting to the light.

"Mmmhmm," Dean managed to mumble a reply.

"Mmm good..." Cas sighed and straightened himself in his chair, looking over at Dean and smiling again. He was glad to see his motivation first thing when waking up, to see someone who liked him enough to trust him the way Dean did. "You're cute," he said as he unbuckled himself, laughing a little bit. Dean had been uncomfortable the whole flight, that much was obvious. Someone who didn't like flying still wouldn't like flying even after a promise of sex.

Dean released his grip on the armrests and exhaled. He rubbed his eyes, sore from being bloodshot and unrested. "I have no idea what you're talking about," Dean replied, eager to get off the plane. "I look like garbage. I'm tired, I'm hungry, and I'm sick. You have a twisted sense of cute." Dean already knew it was his fear of flying that Castiel was referring to, and all of Dean's other submissive traits. Dean started to wonder how much Castiel liked the real him, and how much he liked the result of an abusive relationship.

Chuck yawned and stretched –apparently even the gung-ho movie-watching scientist was able to sleep on the plane ride. "Let's get to my lab, I'm starving."

The idea of getting something to eat from a science lab made Dean's empty stomach do flip flops. Yes, he was hungry. But he wasn't _that_ hungry. He wished he had taken the ointment Cas gave him the day before –one application didn't last forever. Another shower would be nice too, Dean wasn't sure if his jacket had taken on the toxic gases. If it had, he was supplying himself with a steady dose of the crap directly to his skin for the last however many hours.

Chuck had already made all the necessary arrangements for their pick up, or so he thought. After collecting their bags from cargo, they were greeted by two men wearing black suits and sunglasses. It didn't take a biomedical genius to realize these suits were government. "Dr. Chuck Edlund? Master Sergeant Castiel? Come quietly and hand over the civilian. He carries government property in his blood and we need to repossess what belongs to us."

Cas swallowed hard, his eyes quickly scanning the area and different exits. He glanced at Sam muttered with his throat, barely moving his lips at all. "Follow my lead."

The suits made Dean uneasy when they approached one of the terminal exits. _'Their property? I thought I was just being paranoid, but they're really going to take me away!'_ Dean shot a panicked glance to Sam –Cas had already taken the lead.

Chuck nervously stood behind Sam –the biggest shield he could find. He just _knew_ that all of this running around was going to get them both fired. The agents called him by name as well, so they knew he was part of it. And if he didn't stay with them now, he'd never get his job back. He groaned at the thought of being unemployed for the sake of these three yahoos. Well, if all else failed, maybe he'd become a writer.

Cas knew he could trust in Sam's strength, the size of him was enough to tell Cas that much. He stepped ahead of the group, which would definitely be a point of discomfort for the suits, seeing the soldier make the first move. "Government property?" He said casually, "Last time I checked his blood was his property, you're trespassing." He was stalling for the opportune moment to make their escape, he wasn't going to hand Dean over without a fight. In fact he'd never hand him over, they'd have to kill Cas first, or if they managed to take Dean from him, then they'd have to kill him to stop him from trying to retrieve what was his. "And apparently you didn't get the memo, he's _my_ baby." Cas had managed to get close enough to the suited men to punch one in the face and send him stumbling into his partner.

Castiel ran and picked Dean up, knowing that he was in bad shape still. _**"RUN!"**_ He shouted, booking it through a crowd of people that had momentarily left a path for them. Sam grabbed Chuck's arm and took off after the soldier. He was surprised; Castiel had just defied his government for Dean. Sam was more than surprised, he was impressed. Part of him was really hoping the two of them hook up.

Chuck noticed that Castiel had no intentions of even trying to make negotiations go smoothly. His tactic was a very simple telling them to fuck off followed by a hasty retreat. "This is your plan?" Chuck cried as they began booking it through the crowds, dragged by Sam for being too slow. "This is a TERRIBLE plan!" He stumbled along in attempts to keep up with the long-legged Winchester.

Dean was more than relieved when Cas picked him up. The lack of sleep was really starting to mess with him, and he didn't feel all too good either. The veins had reached up over his jaw line, and past his hairline and made a twisted design over the right half of his face. To strangers it looked like a cool tattoo, to Castiel, Sam, and Chuck it looked like a doomsday counter. Dean's eyes were bloodshot, and when Castiel had a firm hold on him, he closed them and started to let the world slip by.

The two agents were hot on their heels. After making a semi-quick recovery from Castiel's unexpected assault, they had their handguns drawn and went after the escapees. In close pursuit, the shorter agent raised her gun to shoot Sam, he was the biggest target. Her partner grabbed her arm, "You're going to open fire in a crowded airport? Are you insane? There are too many civilians!"

She shot him a dirty look, her opportunity long passed by, "If you weren't so unsure of my capabilities with a gun and stuck up on your hero of justice crap, then maybe we'd get this done in reasonable time." She spat at him with an English accent, and added for emphasis, "Maybe."

Cas' agility and skill was more than awesome, he managed to run at top speed through a crowd of people without knocking them over, while carrying Dean in his arms. As he ran across the terminal to the nearest exit he glanced down at Dean, "Will you go out with me?" he said as he leapt over a small gate, "That's what I wanted to ask you."

Dean heard Castiel's voice through the spinning murmurs and sounds of the airport. Dean's eyes fluttered open, an inquisitive expression on his face. _'What did he say?'_ Cas began to say something else, and Dean hoped he was going to repeat. All he said was: _"That's what I wanted to ask you."_ Which only confirmed that Dean had missed something important, the one question that had been bugging him since who knows when.

When Cas glanced down at Dean he noticed that the man's eyes were closed. The black veins had moved much faster than he'd expected them to, they were already on Dean's face. He ran faster, hearing Chuck's protests behind him. He was surprised, the scientist had been so stuck on his job that Cas had expected Chuck to stay behind with the agents back in the terminal. However, glancing backward told him that Sam didn't give the man much of a choice.

Sam, slightly behind Cas and Dean, kicked the gate out of his way; it was a detachable piece, probably meant to be the door for employees. Though the fact that it was in the way to the nearest exit and taxis, Sam didn't hesitate to remove it. He didn't want to glance back to see if they were being followed, though he guessed that they'd be shot at so he ran with his head mostly down. At the same time, however, his curiosity was getting the better of him and he wanted to know where those agents were. One of them had been rather pretty, though he knew he couldn't really do much involving her since she was trying to catch his brother. He wished he could get her number though, he hadn't felt a skip in his chest like that since Jess.

Back in the land of the conscious, Dean couldn't help how impressed he was with Castiel's capabilities. _'He knocked out two agents, and managed to run full tilt through a crowded airport while _carrying_ me.'_ Dean really hoped that he would have an opportunity to ask Cas what he asked.

Cas was almost out of breath when he made it to the doors, he lifted his leg in a swift kick to swing the door open to him, booking it to where numerous taxis were sitting. Sam was close behind him, dragging Chuck with. Cas called to a taxi and put Dean inside, he knew the agents would be after them now, they couldn't go to a place that Chuck knew. Which meant they were in a strange city with no wheels. Just perfect. He climbed in after Dean, Sam followed quickly. Once they were all in Castiel looked at the driver frantically and commanded; "Go, go now!"

Finally out of the building, but not yet in the clear, Castiel began hustling them all into a cab. Chuck almost laughed at the sight of the three men in the backseat, and quickly jumped in the front seat. The taxi driver was startled at Castiel's authoritative tone, and put the pedal to the metal. The taxi careened out of line and took off towards down town.

Cas looked at Dean and started to breathe heavily now that he had the luxury to do so, "Oh my god..." he laughed a little bit, "We're in so much shit."

The two agents continued down to the exit, following the open trail in the crowd and the broken gates. Trotting out the door, they saw a bright yellow taxi take off into the streets of D.C. with four passenger crammed in it. "Damn it."

She grabbed her partner by the tie and dragged him to the nearest taxi. Shoving the would-be passenger aside, she pushed her partner in and commanded the taxi driver, "FBI. Follow that taxi."

Dean shifted to give Cas a little more room in the backseat. The two of them, plus Sam of all people, made it a little bit tight. "I knew they'd try and use me as a lab rat." Dean muttered, fully unimpressed with his supposedly democratic government.

Piling into the cab had proven difficult, Sam knew he should've hopped in the front seat but he wanted to be next to Dean so he tried his luck. Dean had shifted to make room, though he did feel a little bad for it. He knew that he was a big guy, but this was the first time he felt self-conscious about it. He made a mental note to use his size for something good, to at least counteract the crunching he was causing now.

Dean heard Castiel laugh –of all things in this situation, even his own words declaring that they are so screwed, Castiel was _laughing_. Dean's face broke into a smile, this man was insane. Oh the trouble they could get into with an adrenaline high like that.

Cas was still laughing as the taxi pulled away, watching the agents leap into the next one to follow them. "Oh yeah, we're toast." He slumped in the seat and ran his hand through his hair, his grin remaining. "They're government dogs; of course they want you as a lab rat." He leaned over and kissed Dean again, "I still won't let them."

"Hey, back in the terminal, what was it that you asked me?" Dean was tired of being sheepish about it and wanted that answer already. "I was passing out, and I couldn't hear you." One of the blackened veins had reached Dean's right eye, and the white was slowly clouding over to black.

Cas looked at Dean's face and watched his eye cloud over, a sinking feeling in his gut started to make him sick. He swallowed and tried to keep his face as neutral as possible, Dean hadn't heard his question on the run and now they were all crammed in a taxi, Dean was getting worse by the second. He wasn't sure if now was a good time to ask, though he wasn't sure if he'd get another chance.

He rubbed his eyes and swallowed again, a rush of emotion falling over him like waves. "I saw you were passing out..." he groaned, "I'm sorry, I'm just... I'm worried." His blue eyes looked back into Dean's, the black haze capturing one of those beautiful hazel orbs as they spoke. "I want to be with you, will you go out with me, Dean?" he didn't want to wait again, he wasn't sure how long Dean would be with him so he figured now would be as good a time as any.

Castiel seemed stressed, seemed worried, and Dean figured the soldier was probably starting to wonder if asking out a dying man wanted by the feds was even worth it anymore. Dean smiled, feeling reassured of Cas' determination to see this through. The compliments he threw out were subtle, they were underlying the simple observations had of Dean, and that meant more than cheap words. Dean laughed a bit, "I would love to go out with you Castiel. I had been hoping..." Dean smiled again. Castiel wanted to date him! He wanted to care for him, have sex with him and love him. Dean felt that the more he didn't want to die, the higher his chances of dying. Fate had a cruel sense of humour.

Cas wondered if Dean was even Dean now, he didn't know what the toxin was doing if it wasn't making him entirely insane. The only mutation he could see were the black veins, though the odd movement beneath Dean's skin made him nervous, he hadn't seen much of that yet and he didn't want to. "You don't have to answer me now, but despite all the crap we've already seen and what happened to you in the past, I like you Dean. And not the sad, scared you, I saw a glimpse of you when you yelled at Chuck before and I want to see him again. He's hot, he's cute, and he's got some balls I'd like to squeeze." Cas hadn't been one to beat around the bush with things and he wasn't shy, either.

Chuck's squeaky panicked voice spoke up, "Uhh, guys? We are totally being followed. What do we do?"

The cab driver looked pissed off. He started cursing in what Chuck could only guess to be middle eastern, "You mean to tell me you take part in Hollywood chase scene? Not in my taxi you don't. You get me killed! I kick you out!" And with that, the taxi driver tore into a side street and came to a complete halt. "Get out!"

"The other taxi drove past!" Chuck exclaimed. "They'll be turning around soon. C'mon guys, we've gotta run. If we can lose them, my place isn't too far from here." Chuck threw open the passenger door and started running down the side street, and disappeared into a back alley.

"What the hell!" Sam exclaimed, "What are they made of? Cas hit them pretty hard." He looked out his window at the alley and watched Chuck leap out and dart around the corner.

Dean stared in amazement, "I didn't think a whiney scientist would be comfortable in back alleys." He looked to Castiel for direction, "We're going?" It was less of a question and more of a prompt for help. Dean felt terrible, Cas was obviously tired since their escape from the airport, and they hadn't been riding in their taxi for more than five minutes –ten tops. Dean looked over at Sam instead; maybe he'd help, and give Cas a break.

Sam shoved his door open and climbed out, since his side was facing the alley it was easier to pull Dean out for him and carry him than it would be for Cas. "I've got Dean," he said as he lifted his brother out of the car.

Cas wanted to protest but felt his fatigue weighing on him again and nodded, he tossed some coins at the driver, "For the trouble," he laughed as he hopped onto the cab's roof and quickly stepped over it into the alley.

Sam was already running at this point, his long legs making it easy to catch up to Chuck, "Apparently the whiney scientist knows these alleyways." Sam chuckled, glancing down at Dean. He was pretty uncomfortable with the way Dean looked but he didn't know how to say it, though he expected that his eyes gave his feelings away, they always did.

Dean couldn't help but note the expression on Sam's face. _'Just how bad is it?'_ Dean wondered. _'I'm feeling tired, sure, but that's from a couple days without sleep. I'm sure I'll be fine. It can't be that bad.'_

"I'm sorry Dean," Sam muttered as he continued around the many turns that Chuck took.

'_It's that bad.'_

Chuck wasn't exaggerating when he said his place was nearby. A couple of turns down those back alleys and they were at the backdoor of a nice looking apartment complex. Chuck fumbled with his key ring before getting the door open.

Cas was right on their heels, stopping behind them at the back entrance. "This is it?" he breathed, trying to sound like he was totally fine. He looked at Dean again, and smiled.

Sam rolled his eyes at Cas' attempt at saving his machismo, carrying Dean inside.

Chuck looked back at the others, and saw how bad Dean looked. "GaaAAaaahhh!" Chuck shrivelled backwards, arms up in front of him, standing on one leg. "We need to get him in a bed. Now." He lead the group upstairs to his apartment. He motioned toward the master bedroom, "My room's down that way. Go lay him down."

Cas didn't hesitate, he took Dean from Sam's arms and carried him down the hall to the master bedroom. Chuck really did nothing to help the growing anxiety, neither for Dean or the other two. Cas wasted no time in snatching Dean away from Sam and Dean was amused that not but two days ago he felt utterly alone, and now he had two guys playing tug of war. Well, sort of. They were more working together than anything.

Cas gently laid the sickly man down and wrapped him up in the blankets, "You'll be okay," he said, though he wasn't convinced after hearing his voice. He cleared his throat and sat on the edge of the bed, "Sam," he called out to the apartment, "Make Dean something to eat, please." He heard a distant 'Ok' and figured that must have been Sam.

He looked down at Dean and smiled, "You _will_ be okay, Dean." That was much better, he could believe that. He stared down at the warmly wrapped Dean and sighed, "Get some sleep, baby." He leaned down and planted another kiss on him, this time staying for a much longer period of time. He leaned back on the bed and gently caressed Dean's cheek, "I'll be here when you wake up, okay? Please, get some rest." He stayed put, not wanting to miss if something happened with Dean.


	9. Chapter 9

Castiel laid him down in the bed and wrapped him in blankets. The more they worried about him, the worse Dean felt. He hadn't thought it was that bad, really. Tired, that was all. But the apologetic look Sammy gave him made him think he was going to die, and he apologized for not being there for him more and not being able to save him. Castiel already apologized for failing him and had given the same impression. Chuck, well now, Chuck was a special case but he seemed deadly serious when he started giving Castiel orders on how to care for Dean.

Chuck popped into the door way, "The toxins might still be on his clothes. Take them off him and burn them. Keep him wrapped in blankets. Get him water." Chuck hustled about to grab a bag to drop the clothes into. "And good call on the food, he needs to eat."

The kisses Castiel gave Dean seemed sweeter every time. Dean smiled faintly, snug in his blankets. Chuck's instructions made him more than nervous. He wasn't typically a shy guy, but he wanted the first time he was naked in front of Castiel to be for the purpose of sex, at least then the glaring wounds would be ignored in a hormone fuelled drive to get to something else.

Cas was worried about Dean, very much so. Chuck's instructions to remove the intoxicated clothing only made sense and Cas got to work on it right away. He hadn't thought about the sexuality of it all until he'd removed Dean's shirt and was going for his pants. His hands hesitated; he had to wonder how comfortable Dean was with all of this. He glanced up, knowing that it was something they needed to do but was hoping for an agreeable expression on Dean's face. Not seeing exactly what he'd been looking for, though he didn't see a pleading look to stop, he decided to continue.

Removing Dean's shirt and jacket revealed the already known of scars and bruises, which now paled in comparison to the shifting black substance in Dean's back. The veins had wrapped around his right arm and spiralled around his bicep and forearm. Sinuous black tips were visible around his bruised wrists. For some reason the black veins avoided the left side of his body, possibly to take over half his circulatory system and leave the rest for the already present and functioning heart.

Dean bit his bottom lip tentatively as Castiel removed his pants. The jagged scars that trailed along Dean's hip line continued down past his genitals to his inner thigh and finally grew shallow around his knees. Again, the vine-like reach of the black veins reached down Dean's right leg, also thinning out around the knee, right beside Dean's scar.

"It's bad, right?" Dean looked down his own body, finally getting a view of whatever it was that they were trying to keep from him. He had no idea what was on his back –Sam wouldn't say. Now it was everywhere. Dean's eyes widened, he thought maybe a tentacle or something, but what was this? It was taking over his entire body! Dean thought back to the mutant things, they were all human once. What if his mind was the last thing to go? Dean looked at Castiel, "What's going to happen?" Somewhere in the back of his mind he knew that Castiel didn't have the answer, not even Chuck had the answer. All he was looking for was more reassurance.

When Cas cautiously started to pull Dean's pants down, he had hooked his fingers into the underwear as well for good measure, pulling them both to the floor. His eyes were drawn to the scars and the black veins running down Dean's otherwise fairly perfect legs. He smiled and looked up at Dean, "Not that bad, sweetie." He stood again and gently lowered Dean into the bed, wrapping the blankets around him.

When Castiel looked up to meet Dean's gaze, he saw that Dean's right eye had worsened. The hazel color had been hit by the toxins and lit up like it was nuclear charged. The coloured iris seemed to glow and spiral, like it were constantly moving. The backdrop was completely black, no cloudy colors or white to speak of.

After wrapping himself in several blankets, Dean curled up to try and get some much needed rest. He felt comforted by Castiel's continued presence. "I don't want to leave you, Cas. I just met you, and I want to spend a lot of time with you before I do kick the bucket. Promise me I'll wake up?"

"You'll be okay; I promise that you will wake up." He knew he couldn't promise that, though he had no choice but to try and reassure his boyfriend, it was the least he could do for him now.

In the other room, Chuck sighed and rubbed his temples in frustration. He looked at Sam, figuring he could be straight forward about this with someone. "I have no idea where to start with this," he admitted. "None of the other subjects got this bad, or faired this well. Like I said, he'd already be insane if he were going to lose himself. But that doesn't mean that something else isn't warped up there." It would occur to Sam that Chuck had no idea the source of the veins, his outburst was based solely on their presence on Dean's face. The shifting mass under Dean's skin was still unknown to him.

"Worst case scenario: he dies. Somewhere in the middle is where we stop the advance, but the damage done in permanent. Hopefully we can reverse it, but that almost _never_ happens. There's usually some lasting effect. I'm sorry Sam, but your brother's probably never going to be the same." Chuck shook his head, "The secondary guest room was changed into a mini lab. I'm going to do some research on this thing." Chuck picked up his briefcase, which he never left behind, and headed out to his lab while Sam made Dean a sandwich.

Sam looked over at Chuck's exhausted expression and sighed heavily along with him, "So Dean's... gonna be different from now on..." He shook his head in frustration, a wave of anger washing over him. "Well... what can we do? You don't know..." He wanted to ask millions of questions but he knew that no one had any answers; they'd just have to wait and see. He wasn't good at waiting and seeing, that was something that Sam hated doing. He wanted an answer and he wanted it yesterday. He smacked his fist into a nearby wall and walked into the kitchen.

_Earlier..._

The other FBI agent rolled his eyes as their taxi sped past their target, "Come ON!" He looked out the back window, watching the escapees flee from their cab. "They're get- they're getting away!" he stammered, smacking his fist on the seat in front of him. He angrily ordered their driver to turn around, not wanting to lose them.

Her partner ordered the immediate turn around of the taxi when the fugitives gave them the slip. It was probably accidental, impart due to the driver. She sighed heavily, having had more than enough of her partner's chauvinistic crap. He tried very hard to be in control of every situation, and his temper was shorter than his dick.

Once they got to the spot where the other driver stopped, he hopped out and ran down the alleyway. It took some guess work but he found what he thought would be Chuck's apartment. "I'm sure this is it," he said as he started up the fire-escape. He remembered reading what floor Chuck Edlund lived on, though he couldn't remember the building for some reason. He found the right floor and snuck across to the nearest window.

With his poor luck, he peeked into the kitchen window, right when Sam looked up from making Dean a sandwich. Sam's brow furrowed as they stared at one another, it felt like ages before either of them moved. To the agent's surprise, Sam was freakin' fast, he'd slammed the window open and was up on the counter in a second. He leaned out and caught the agent by the back of his jacket and shirt so he couldn't just duck away.

With brute force, Sam had hauled him into the apartment and knocked his head onto the floor, knocking him right out. Sam breathed heavily, finally allowing himself to do so; he couldn't believe what he'd just done. He had been in university aiming to be a man of the law, now he'd just knocked out a government agent. He froze and looked at the window again, this time a lot more concerned as to where the female was. Her partner was right there, so either she was following his lead and coming in the window, or she'd be smarter and find a different way in. Either way, the agents were at the apartment already and they intended to take Dean from him.

Her partner had taken off in a hurry, _'As if you'll catch up to them.'_ She took a moment to take in her surroundings. They knew to find them in D.C. because their probable destination after the biohazard was Dr. Edlund's de-tox lab. Dr. Edlund had been moved to D.C. to work more closely with government officials, and Agent Talbot remembered, as her partner had, that he lived in this area of town. Quickly taking the main street to the apartment front, she dialled an apt. number at random.

"Hello?"

"FBI. Open the front door." Most average citizens didn't protest FBI orders, even less protested when they lived in a government owned apartment complex. Strafing down the hall with her gun drawn, she looked down the directory – 570 – Edlund. "Bingo." She took the stairs two at a time and reached the fifth floor. If nothing else, her partner served as a distraction.

She could hear the commotion just inside the door. Given the significant lack of gunfire, she figured her partner lost. Sorely. She finished picking the front door lock, sliding the deadbolt over to the "open" position. She drew her gun and opened the front door slowly. She found the tall one overlooking her unconscious partner.

"Freeze," She said in the coldest, monotone voice she had. He gun was trained on Sam's back. "Put your hands where I can see them and turn around slowly. I don't want to spill any unnecessary blood. Where's the infected civilian? He's a walking biohazard, and it is in your best interest if you relinquish him.

Sam dropped his head and sighed again, slowly lifting his hands into the air. She must've slipped in while he was busy knocking out her idiot partner. He turned to face her, not making any unnecessary movements along the way, "Listen," he said calmly, "That 'infected civilian' you refer to so coldly is my _brother_, and the shit in his system that's killing him right now belongs to you guys. The same shit that he was attacked by, because you guys can't keep a lid on your own stupid projects." He didn't want to sound angry because he knew how he looked; sounding even slightly angry would be enough for a small girl like her to shoot him without any further action.

"His name is Dean, and I will not relinquish him to anyone. I left him behind years ago, relinquished him to some stranger, and this is what happened as a result. I'm never going to leave him again, so you might as well shoot me now if you intend to." He made sure there was no violence in his voice, calm the entire time he spoke. He knew, however, that trying to plead with an agent was useless.

"Really," Bella scoffed, "_that's_ what you believe about this situation?" Bella shook her head, her loose hair falling naturally over her shoulders. "Listen, you look like a smart boy, so I'm going to explain this slowly. Once an event of this magnitude has taken place, it is easier to refer to the infected as an object. There is less confliction over what needs to be done. When the lives of thousands, possibly hundreds of thousands -now that he's been in heavily populated metropolitan areas -far outweigh his. He needs to be removed."

"It's ridiculous to even try to dissuade me. The mistakes of the research scientists are their mess, and they couldn't cover it. As a result, the military was brought in for control, and they failed. Now we have one individual loose in the population, so the federal bureau is now involved. Yes, all of these entities are government funded, but they don't have the same head or the same goals. I won't make an exception for a mistake I'm not responsible for." Bella's eyes narrowed, bluffing a harsh resolve not to budge from her position. Sam's hung head did make her wonder.

After a moment of silence Sam squeezed his eyes shut, the image of Dean lying dead in a coffin, Dean's face replacing his father's, suddenly haunting his vision. He fought tears away though when he looked up at Bela again, he had that trademark 'puppy look', even if he hadn't intended to have it. "Please," his voice quivered along with his bottom lip, "Please don't take my brother away, I let him down once I can't ever do that again." He swallowed to clear his throat though it didn't help his sad expression, "His life was starting to get better, finally he met someone who would help him and take care of him and... And he was going to be okay, until this toxin got into him." He shook his head, "Do you know what happened? What the government is doing with this infection? Is there a cure?" Sam had realized that she was part of the FBI, maybe she had answers that no one else did.

It hadn't occurred to him that someone like Chuck, who had been working on the mutants directly, didn't have an answer for him. But he asked her anyway, "Is there any way to save my brother?"

Bella tried hard to ignore Sam's pleas for humanity. His sad face didn't seem to fit with the rest of his physique. He looked hurt, and he sounded sincere. He really was just worried about his brother, but she never suspected anything less. It wasn't as though Chuck was wanted for stealing government research, family and friends were trying to protect the infected.

Sam stood with his hands up, not wanting to be shot by the agent standing in front of him. She seemed quite unwilling to listen to him, confident that he couldn't dissuade her. He swallowed and slowly nodded his head; he understood where she was coming from. For her it was a job, just business. If she referred to Dean as an 'it' or infected individual or something to cut her off from emotional ties, the better she would be at her job. Judging by how she was an FBI agent, this technique had gotten her far. His sad face wouldn't be enough to change her mind... Then he realized it; he'd been making that face at her since he first said please.

He took note of how she reacted to him now; trying to figure out if it had worked. At first she seemed very hard-pressed to ignore his expression, to stay focused and as cold hearted as she needed to be. He watched her eyes, he could see some kind of plan formulating there. He knew, just based on the fact that she was the intellectual type, that she would try to use him. He knew because he was the same way, both were trying to find a way to get the other to see it their way and jump sides.

Sam could tell that she was good, very good. But he could already see that with enough exposure to it, she would fall to his puppy-eyed look as so many others had. He got Dean with it on so many different occasions; he'd even gotten his dad with it. That was a feat, right there. He felt a form of pride that he managed to persuade his father to do something he hadn't really planned on doing originally. It was a stupid thing but it was important to him that he claimed victory over his dad at least on one point.

It occurred to Bella that Sam's cooperation would be easier gained through her own compliance, for a short period of time, than it would be by force. Not to mention there was a very pissed off soldier somewhere in here. She lowered the gun and saftied it. "My name is Bella Talbot. I don't have much for answers, but I'll tell you what I know."

Bela was her name, "Sam Winchester," he lowered his hands and gave her a smile, he wasn't going to push it, he knew his natural charms were already enough for this situation. His puppy-look would get its chance again. "And anything you know is more than we have, so please," he sat down as well, giving her his full and undivided attention.

Bella strolled to the table and casually pulled a chair out and took a seat, motioning for Sam to do the same. "From what I understand, the government was funding a research project of head scientist Dr. Zachariah. His immediate research partner is one Dr. Edlund, whom you are well acquainted with. What the goal of the research was, I couldn't say. The medical jargon was dismissed and the grant given." The point Sam would take away from this was that the government didn't initiate this endeavour, they only funded it.

"So... if it isn't government funded then it was started by this Zachariah guy, right? What was he like? Did he originally seem like he was looking to make a 'cure all' or was he intending on making a bio-weapon the whole time?" Sam already had a suspicion that this Dr. Zachariah was a bad individual. Chuck seemed too sketchy and eccentric to _really_ be looking for some kind of cure. What she said next basically answered his questions.

"I don't know what he was up to, but the pitch he gave was a cure all. He said he had found a way to boost immunities and as a result counteract the effects of several severe diseases, such as tumours or cancer. From what we've been able to gather from the lab records, no such work had ever been done. All we found were a slew of animal testing results that fared poorly, and a bunch of human testing reports that proved to be even worse." Bella shook her head, apparently disgusted with the reports she had spent a fair time sifting through.

He leaned back in his chair and ran his hand up his forehead and through his hair, "Oh Jesus..." he shook his head, "Don't any of these people watch zombie movies?" He muttered the last part, though it was intended for Bela to hear it as well.

"There was no successful test among the animals, and they moved to human subjects. What they made is more of a population destabilizing bio weapon. It enters the blood stream through injection. In low doses, the no reaction occurs. Once the reaction threshold is reached, full mutation begins. The disease targets the brain, specifically the frontal lobes. All planning and executive functions seem to go offline. The individual left behind is more primordial; animalistic. They are violent and unreasonable. But worst of all," Bella uncrossed her legs and leaned forward like the next bit of information was important. "These individuals have undergone a change on the hormonal level. The pituitary glands in the brain, and the hypothalamus, their programming seems to have changed. The result is that nasty toxin that is given off by the test subjects.

He looked up at her again at the mention of hormonal mutation, "So... then what's going to happen to my brother? If he's next gen subject number two then they're going to try and capture him for sure, right? That's why you're here. And the first guy's main mutation was a third arm? Dean has some strange black veins and weird movement in his back," Sam used his hands to try and mimic the odd vibrations he saw though he knew he wasn't doing it justice. "What could that be?"

She gave him a look that implied he should let her finish and he gave her an apologetic smile, she nodded and continued, "According to the reports, one scientist had been infected by the toxins, just an assistant researcher. The frontal lobe damage didn't occur in him, like it did the test subjects. See, the form of infection is airborne, not injection. And the quantity has to be significant for the mutation to occur. The reason why this scientist was documented was because of his unique reaction. Most simply died, which is why the fumes are referred to as toxic, even corrosive. Others appeared to have full immunity. But this guy would be second generation test subject one. Your brother is second generation test subject two."

"The good news is, none of those working with subject one became infected through contact. Unfortunately, no blood tests were completed to test blood contact resistance. The infection could be completely untransmitable through the second generation. The bad news is majority of the mutations suffered by the researcher were irreversible. I believe he's working on training his third arm for close quarters combat. But there is the possibility that Chuck could find something, rumour has it he's pretty smart, pretty eccentric, but pretty smart."

Bella smiled at Sam, trying to show gestures of trustworthiness and sincerity. It was not uncommon for men to hold the belief that women were more complacent and open to verbal negotiations than men, so Sam believing her shouldn't be a problem. "And for the moment, my boss isn't telling me enough for me to act now. If I can learn more about this outbreak by working with you guys than against, I will do so."

He ran his hand through his hair again, one of his nervous habits. "If it's non-transferable then that's good... Means Cas, Chuck and I don't have it. But irreversible? There's nothing..." He squeezed his eyes shut, trying not to think about it. He tried to keep his voice and breathing steady though it really upset him to think that he'd never have his brother back. But then again, when did he really have his brother? Before their dad died? Before he left? He didn't give Dean enough credit, he never paid attention...

"I was always so self absorbed," he swallowed again, still trying to steady himself, "I was stuck in my life and I didn't think that any one needed me, or that I shouldn't bother to help them because it wasn't worth my time... I had a bad temper, easily agitated, and never got along with my dad." He looked up at Bela, once again not planning for the look he'd given her for the second time. His brown eyes big and incredibly sad, "I was arrogant and pig-headed and I never said goodbye to either of them. I didn't get the chance to apologize to my dad, and that was my fault. He died and I couldn't stay at his funeral for long, I was so stuck on myself and how I was feeling that I never went back for Dean. Now I have and I'm still too late to make a difference." He hung his head again, trying to subtly wipe tears from his eyes.


	10. Chapter 10

Cas heard the commotion in the other room and wanted to go check, though he knew leaving Dean alone was a stupid idea. He looked at Dean again and sighed heavily, he wanted to protect him but he didn't have anything for a toxic infection. Whether Dean was awake or not, he decided that speaking softly to him was a good idea. "You know, when I saw you in the diner I was pretty surprised. Just from looking at you I thought I knew what you were about, the cars, the jacket, you know, stuff like that. At first, before I had sat down, I thought it was the first time my gut feeling would be wrong, that you happened to have a nice car and jacket, but that was it. You were slumped at the counter and I figured, 'what the hell, I might as well see.'

"But, like always, my gut was right. You had good taste you were just drowning in some really bad decisions. I will not give up on you, I'm going to pull you to shore and you'll see that the world isn't looking down on you. People aren't there to hurt you, we aren't judging you. You're just as worth it as anyone else you've met, so don't put yourself down anymore. I will be here to lean on; I will be here to hold you, so please, don't hold things in thinking that I'll hurt you or not care. I won't ever hurt you on purpose; I wish I could do something about this, about what's happening to you." He rubbed his eyes again, feeling them tear up.

"I don't know why, I've met people like you before and I never got attached to them. But there's something about you, Dean. Something about who you are, not what this jackass boyfriend of yours did to you or forced you to be, but who you really are. I want to know you, I want to be with you and hear you laugh, your stories... I just want you, Dean. I can't explain why, we've barely met, but it's just a strong feeling..." he cleared his throat and looked down at Dean's resting body, "Please get better, okay?"

It was lucky for agent Talbot that Castiel decided to stay by Dean's side, despite the earlier commotion. Part of Dean felt like Castiel was trying to communicate, but he didn't wake from his sleep. Part of Dean heard him, but he would never consciously know. A peaceful expression rested on his slumbering face, Castiel could tell he was comfortable.

Cas watched Dean's sleeping face and smiled, he seemed to be at peace for now. He wished his mutterings had reached somewhere, that Dean would remember it, but it'd just be his secret for now. He frowned, thinking about the black veins that ran along Dean's face and into his eye was really starting to worry him, though he'd been worried the whole time. The discoloration wasn't something he'd expected or knew what to do with. He didn't know what to do with any of it, or what to say. What should he say to someone who has wispy black stuff running along in their veins? To someone with toxic mutations threatening to take over? He had no idea what to say to them, all he could do was reassure with lies of certainty.

Part of him knew he'd regret the lies, even if they were to make Dean feel better. He wouldn't be able to continue saying things like 'you'll be okay', not with the way things were looking and how fast Dean was worsening. He wasn't even sure if Dean trusted a word he said at this point, if he knew he was dying and was just asking Cas to hear a pleasant lie, what was he supposed to do with that?

While Dean slept however, the mass in his back continued to shift and pulse. The veins didn't move further, but the REM patterns in Dean's eyes were mismatched. Upon closer inspection, Castiel could see that Dean's right eye was moving independent of his left. The glowing eye fluttered open while the other remained shut. Still unresponsive, Dean right eye made a sweep of the room, scanning for something. It rested on Castiel and simply stared at him.

Cas was a little distracted, he couldn't help but wonder what Sam was doing? He hadn't made any noises since earlier, maybe something had gone wrong? Cas was about to get up to check when he saw Dean's eye fluttering open, "Dean?" he whispered, leaning over. When it opened fully and shifted to stare at him, he froze. What was it looking at? Was it Dean? Would he be able to tell. "Dean?" He asked again, though he hadn't expected a coherent answer.

He leaned over and reached for Dean's eye cautiously, wondering if it was a conscious separate from Dean's or if it was the same. And on that note, was it friendly or not? He wasn't sure.

Dean's blackened eye stared intently at Castiel, watching the only life form in the room, monitoring its movements. When Castiel approached, the eye narrowed in disapproval. It seemed to be acting as a sort of sentinel defence, although no sign of recognition was given.

When Castiel called his name, Dean began to stir. As Castiel reached out, Dean's back began to shift violently, as though something were trying to get out and stop him, the source of the eye came from Dean's back.

Dean moaned, his back began to hurt. "Castiel?" He asked groggily. Something didn't feel right. Before he didn't feel anything, and he only knew something was wrong from the people around him. But now he could feel it, feel something ripping at skin from the inside. Fully awake, terrified, and in pain, Dean scrunched into a ball and screamed in agony. His back began to rip open along the spine from the neck down. His vertebrae were visible, but difficult to identify –the bone had turned black. What had ripped out was an extension of Dean's own spine. From the way it tore out one could tell that it had grown from the tailbone up, its presence masked by the pain provided to Dean by Jake earlier on. The tail had folded over and double-backed up his spine and festered around his upper back. It had no skin, only bone and some leathery sinews to move it. The end was sharp, almost spiked. It was a weapon, and it turned on Castiel, though it didn't lash out. Dean was conscious, and his consciousness prevented any unconscious sentient to act as a defence.

"Dean, stay calm," Cas said aloud, though he could feel his own knees weaken. The appearance of Dean's spine alarmed him more than he was willing to exclaim.

Of course there was no way Dean could really stay calm, scrunching into a ball and screaming seemed like the most appropriate option. He wanted to help, he went to Dean's side but all he could do was make physical contact and assure him that he was right there. "Calm down, I'm right here, you'll be okay. You aren't alone, baby." He continued like this throughout the advancing mutation until the tail came out fully and displayed itself threateningly in front of him. He stared at for a moment, his mind making quick work of all the options he had.

Dean's brow furrowed in pain as he tried to fight off the pain-induced tears. "Castiel, what happened?" Dean tried to sound calm, but that was more than a stretch. Dean tried to move, but the harsh stinging from his back convinced him otherwise. Dean winced and shut his eyes tightly. Through his haze of pain Dean found that he could move the tail on his own accord, and it swayed back and forth, giving up its threatening position to lash out.

Bella looked at Sam, "What the hell was that?" She realized she should've been asking Chuck, but she felt more comfortable asking Sam. And by now she was confident in his curiosity that he would relay the question.

The screaming had already alerted Sam and he stood immediately and ran into the next room. "Dean!" he could hardly believe it had been his voice that shouted across the room, he sounded so scared and desperate. The look of the tail made him hesitate, it was as if Dean had no control and the thing was operating on its own. Dean would never threaten Castiel like that; he was in love with the guy. Sam glanced at Bela helplessly before looking back at the scene that was still unfolding, while she was sure to remain slightly behind Sam in case Castiel protested her presence there in the room.

"Don't be scared, Dean." Cas tried to continue to reassure Dean, his own voice surprisingly calm and settled, "It's new and I understand how terrified you must feel, even though you're good at hiding it," he didn't take his eyes away from the poised extended spinal cord, he watched it relax and sway, not sure if Dean was in control or what was happening. He started to breathe a little more though Chuck's entrance startled him.

"Oh my god," Chuck couldn't help a verbal reaction. "I thought this was science based. Mutations usually mean system failures and death, not actual mutations!"

Chuck ran to the bedside, a syringe in his hand. "I put this together in my home lab here, it should help stop the advance," he explained more to Castiel for approval than to Dean. After all the damage science had caused thus far, there was no reason for Castiel to believe science would help.

Cas watched the scientist with the syringe and flinched, moving to stop him. "If that makes this worse you are _so_ going to get a boot up your ass." He threatened, though it was mostly a bluff.

Sam silently agreed, giving Chuck a cautious nod.

Chuck took Dean's arm and inserted the needle. Dean's preoccupation with his back prevented him from noticing much. As the serum entered Dean's blood stream, the black veins thinned out and retracted, at least, most of them. Some prominent veins remained in all locations they had reached previously: his right arm and leg, his back, neck, and right side of his face. His eye remained unchanged.

They watched the needle go into Dean's arm and the mutation slow down, almost to the point of reversing. Cas immediately crawled onto the bed and pulled Dean into his arms, trying to comfort him, "Does it still hurt? Can I do anything?"

Sam looked at Bela and realized that she'd had a good question earlier. He turned his gaze on Chuck, "What the hell was that? I know that the first next gen subject has a third arm but a tail growing out of his _spinal column_! How does that work?" he walked up to Chuck and towered over him, "Bela says you're one of the lead scientists in this thing, what the hell were you up to in those labs? What is this thing doing to my brother! **I want answers, Chuck.**" Sam's voice was bigger and scarier than Castiel's ever could be, and the soldier was very grateful for it. He turned a concerned eye in Chuck's direction.

_**Author's Note**_:

**Sorry readers, short chapter this time around lol I couldn't figure out how to put it all together in the same one this time :P Hope you're all enjoying it, please review XD it only takes a second to say 'awesome chapter' ... but if you all do that I'm gonna have to find your inbox and send internet kicks your way**


	11. Chapter 11

Pain was an odd thing; like a needy child. Even with something as small as a paper cut, you can't simply ignore it, not without a bit of effort. The wounded area moved, and you flinch, cursing the papers that bestowed the cut unto you. It's a tiny thing, but the pain persists. With a significant amount of pain, other things begin to be blocked out so the attention-needy child can get what it wants. Once you get to 7 out of ten and up, you stop noticing things in your environment, like people entering the room, sounds, and general surroundings. Eventually, you'd just black out.

Dean's vision was beginning to go dark. The pain from his back had woken him only moments ago, and now would be the same thing to put him to sleep. He didn't even notice Chuck administer his homebrew cure. His eyes rolled back in their sockets, but he could feel something. It tugged at the last strings of consciousness for him to pay attention.

Cas' arms were around Dean comfortingly, defensively, desperately... He bit his lip as he watched Dean's eyes flutter, hoping that he wouldn't pass out. If he passed out then he was that much closer to dead, something Cas was quickly realizing he wouldn't be able to handle very well. He wasn't sure when, but Dean became the most important person in his life. Before talking to him, Dean hardly came up on Cas' radar. But once they spoke, once he'd gotten such a sincere answer out of Dean, a story that did more than touch him, he knew he'd never be able to let someone like Dean go. The moment Dean got into his truck? When their burgers arrived maybe? Somewhere in their conversation Dean had managed to get a hook in Castiel's chest and wouldn't be easy to remove.

He squeezed his eyes shut, mentally repeating the same phrase to himself, over and over; _'Please wake up.'_

Dean's eyes fluttered open, attempting to focus. _'What is that?'_ He felt himself move, taken in by someone in a protective hold. _'No, this isn't protection. It's comfort. Is it...?'_ Dean heard Castiel's calming whispers and assurances. Dean smiled through the pain and relaxed a bit, "Castiel?" He muttered, attempting to find a way to let Cas know that he was still with him.

Cas' eyes popped open, "Dean?" he looked down at the pained expression Dean was wearing. He felt bad but he couldn't hide his relief, "I'm so glad you're... well... I'm glad you're here." He didn't want to worry Dean, saying 'glad you're not dead' wasn't a good way to avoid that. He watched the tail cautiously, not entirely sure Dean was in control of it. Though when it just rested around his mid-section he relaxed and smiled down at his boyfriend, "It's no big deal, baby. We'll figure it out, okay?" He thought Dean was talking about the tail, as they all had been. He was wrong.

"It hurts..." Dean tried to answer Castiel's earlier questions, but he didn't know how to describe it. Dean swayed the tail to-and-fro a couple of times before curling it around Castiel's mid section to hold him close. "What the hell is that?"

At first they would think Dean was asking the same thing they were, what was up with the tail? But they soon found out that his concerns were for things they hadn't even seen yet. Dean flinched again, another wave of pain washing over him. He dug his fingers into Castiel's skin, gripping him tightly. He didn't want the man to leave him, not in this situation or not because of this situation. Dean's back had been split clean open to reveal his spinal column not too long earlier.

Dean started gripping him tightly though he didn't flinch, even when Dean's nails dug into him, "Baby?" he asked, concern very evident in his voice. His eyes widened even further as he watched the massive movement in Dean's back, "Holy shit," he muttered. He was completely useless, Dean needed him now more than ever and he couldn't do anything for him, not a thing. He didn't let go of Dean, he only held him tighter. The feeling of hot tears soaking his shirt made him cringe, he wished more than anything that he could help.

Sam had a similar feeling that Castiel did; they both stood by and watched the mutation in Dean's back continue to grow. Dean wasn't unconscious because of what Chuck had given him, but the mutation obviously hadn't slowed any. Sam glanced at Chuck for a possible answer though he wasn't sure the scientist would have any.

The human spine is the most important collection of bones in the body given it's significant task of protecting the spinal cord, which relays all information from the brain, and also makes reaction-type judgement calls of its own. The mutation was not about to leave it's mark without forming a new source of protection for the exposed spine. Each individual vertebrae began to shift, with a plack-like entity beginning to emerge. At an impressive rate, Dean soon grew something similar to plated armour down the middle of his back.

Dean had buried his face in Castiel's chest, hot tears stinging his eyes and dampening Cas' shirt. Finally Dean loosed his death grip on the soldier and relaxed. "Please... Castiel, please don't leave." Dean sobbed, frightened that maybe Castiel could only handle so much. Helping an average guy with an abusive boyfriend in some random town was one thing, but dedicating himself to a genetically mutated, visibly disturbed individual with uncertain mental status and unknown life expectancy was more than just a little different.

Dean realized that he had forgotten about his tail, and quickly unwrapped it from Castiel's waist. While blinded by the pain of yet another mutation, he'd lost track of how tight he'd been squeezing. "I'm so sorry," Dean apologized, hoping he hadn't hurt Castiel with his hideous new appendage.

Cas felt the strain from Dean's tail loosen, an apology being mumbled into his chest made him think that maybe Dean was feeling a little better. He stroked the back of Dean's head gently, "I will never leave you," he promised in a whisper, "You don't need to worry, okay? I won't leave you... I... well I really care about you, a lot. So don't think I'd abandon you, it's insulting." He added that last part in a light-hearted tone, hoping to lighten the situation a little bit. Sam's rage started up against Chuck and Cas smiled alongside with Dean.

"**I want answers, Chuck.**" Sam's earlier outburst returned, he asked again, this time more aggressively.

Hearing Sam's voice made Dean relax a bit, and hearing Sam yell made him smile. Sam and their dad were so much alike, yet neither of them ever seemed to notice. With fights between the two of them, it was as though Dean were a middle child between the stubborn and demanding John and the spoiled and self-deserving Sammy. Sam's aggression in the face of his own helplessness was something he must have picked up from their dad, there was just no way was that a coincidence. Dean felt better knowing that he had family there, trying to help him, trying to keep him safe. Worried.

Chuck was happy to see that the serum had an effect, to be honest he wasn't sure it would, but he wasn't about to tell these guys that. In a way, he was still able to work on the project. After all, he had the only surviving subject in his apartment. Sam's sudden turn on him was an unexpected surprised. Chuck began stammering some gibberish before finally pulling together an answer.

"Well there's really no real way to determine a pattern from just two people. From what I gathered, the life of a researcher is one in which you need to multitask, so an evolutionary mutation would have given him a third arm. The point of the matter is that the researcher had worked so often in scenarios that required another person, that it was engrained somewhere that he needed a hand," Chuck laughed at that. Needed a hand? Like a third hand? He realized that no one else found it funny, not in the slightest. He cleared his throat.

Sam's eyes narrowed at Chuck's scruffy little face, the man seemed to have trouble coming up with an answer but once he'd started he had a hard time stopping. "Needed a hand, very funny." He said monotonously. It sort of made sense, though he had a really hard time understanding what had happened to Dean exactly. Armor had coated Dean's spine? Is that what had happened? He could hardly tell but the reasoning Chuck had given made him wonder, what had this scientist known? What does he know now? Sam wished a solid punch to the man's face would clear it all up, though he knew that wouldn't get him any answers.

"So anyway, with Dean I imagine he's lived a lifestyle in which he needs protection, and a lot of it. To grow a natural weapon, not to mention a sentinel eye, he must have seen some pretty awful stuff. I mean, even the recovery on his back is with bone plating. It wouldn't surprise me if he had quickened healing either. Did you see how fast the skin attached to the spinal armour? That was just impressive!" Chuck was getting excited with the new developments, "Just think, we may actually have created the first super human!"

Chuck's excitement over Dean's predicament caused a low growl to rumble in Sam's throat, directed at the much smaller man. "Super human?" he said angrily, glancing at Bela. Both seemed to catch on at the same time. Sam had already figured that the original plan wasn't to make a 'cure all', though he wasn't sure what the real experiments were for. Now he knew, and now he was more pissed off.

Bella's expression was less than impressed when she pieced it together. She widened her eyes a bit, looked at Sam to see if he found the same, and then back at Chuck. "That was the point of it all along," she glared at him, pissed off with the type of research it was. "You and Dr. Zachariah were trying to create super humans. That's why you moved to human subjects so quickly; there was no point or transference in using animal testing. The problem was, every subject went insane."

"Not quite," Chuck corrected her. "All of them did go insane, but that was fine. You see, they weren't test subjects, they were human incubators. The mutation needed to grow in a human before it could affect a human."

"It was fine that they went insane?" Sam shouted, taking another menacing step toward Chuck, "Are you kidding me? They're _people_, Chuck. I don't care if they were in prison, it's unethical! The volunteers, did you tell them the truth? Did they know what would happen to them?" He felt sick to his stomach just hearing the conversation, thinking that people were capable of this. He knew they were, he was going to be a lawyer, of course he knew. It just made him sick to hear it now, with a scientist that was giving Dean different injections.

Chuck nervously wrapped up his explanations, but he was not prepared for the violent reply. Sam's vehement questions, and his arched, menacing shoulders made Chuck feel even smaller. He was just a scientist, a small thinking man. "Well, no," Chuck stammered, "We didn't tell them that they would go insane. And we weren't sure if the insanity would be permanent. There was a chance that they could come out of it. Possibly."

"But then all of your second generation were either unaffected or dead," Bella pointed out. "You didn't have a very high success rate with your experiments."

"The subjects were all volunteers, just like the researcher who received the mutation. You do know that he's training to use that third arm. He wishes he had a fourth! Something about being symmetrical." Chuck smiled, trying not to slip too easily into the role of the bad guy. "The research wasn't my idea, and all the subjects had been volunteers-"

"Or death row inmates," Bella cut him off.

"But they're prisoners, and they still agreed to it in exchange for getting out of a death sentence. They were as good as dead anyway. The break out was the only time where unsuspecting or unwilling individuals got caught up in this."

"Not true," Bella countered, "There was no need for military intervention. Those soldiers were bored out of their minds on useless patrols. They were brought there to be subjects and become super soldiers. Dr. Zachariah promised the head officer that he'd have the best unit in the special forces. Those weren't soldiers, those were lab rats." This revelation would be one that Castiel would find to be particularly discomforting. Chances were he had no idea he was signed up to be a guinea pig.

Chuck threw his hand up in the air, "I have no control over what the military does or uses our science for. You can hardly blame Einstein for the atomic bomb. I was doing research, it was my job. That's it. If you want to hash this out, find Dr. Zachariah. I haven't seen him since the outbreak though."

"Great," Bella threw a stray lock of hair over her shoulder in frustration, "He's probably bombed and dead by now."

As Sam sat and seethed in anger, Cas listened to the most disheartening information he'd heard regarding his job. "The head officer signed us up for that?" he said to no one in particular, "I was here to be an experiment?" _'The people I trusted expected me to just sit back and take it? My government, my country? How... how dare they!' _His eyes snapped up at Chuck, "Ask Dr. Zachariah? You were just doing the research?" His voice was low but slowly rising in volume, "**Bullshit**! That's fucking _bullshit_!" he didn't let go of Dean but he did try to turn his body more in Chuck's direction, "You were the second fucking scientist, Chuck! If a random researcher had been here and told me this, I'd believe them. But it's you. You were second in command with the whole project; you have the second most amount of information. You aren't telling me that Zachariah was leading this thing all on his own, are you? Something this big? I'm not buying it."

Cas jumped in with the strongest proclamation of 'bullshit' Bella had ever heard. "Listen, you army dog, you signed up to serve your country, give your life to your country. They can do with it what they want. What happened instead was your unsuspecting, civilian boyfriend was infected and became the experiment. If I were you, I'd have preferred it be me."

Cas looked down at Dean, he knew his boyfriend was in some serious pain, he didn't know when it would subside or if it would at all. But what he did know was that Chuck was only looking to get information for his goddamned project. "We're leaving. I'm taking Dean and we're leaving." He looked at Chuck, "If you follow us without good proof that you honestly had nothing in this but research, I will shoot you where you stand. Understood?" he stood up, letting go of Dean to gather something soft to wrap him in.

Sam took a deep breath, "Castiel, calm down." He looked over at the enraged soldier, "I understand how you feel but-"

"But what? If you're defending this-this" he motioned toward Chuck in agitation, "underhanded scientist, you obviously don't know how I feel. In fact, how could you know? No one signed _you_ up for experiments." He found a nice blanket and brought it to Dean.

Chuck shrivelled away from Castiel's yelling, wishing he could shrink into the shadows. "There was never supposed to be a break out, and the military hired us to do it! They wanted super soldiers, we said pay us, they said ok, and we said ok. Dr. Z arranged for the death row inmates, the army officer arranged for the prisoners of war. Test subjects were made, and volunteer researchers and grunt lieutenants were infected with toxins. More often than not, the soldiers were immune. That's it. You guys hired us to mess with your genes. I've told you everything I know!"

Chuck didn't dare get any closer to Cas, so he kept his distance while trying to plead his case, "If I was the bad guy I would've helped those FBI agents catch you at the terminal. I wouldn't have led you to my apartment. They considered me an enemy! You've gotta believe me..."

Bella interjected, recognizing opportunity when she saw it, "That's not what you told my partner." She accused Chuck, "You told us where to find Dean; you said he was dangerous and infected. And that you were continuing your experiments. We came here to stop them. The FBI wants the whole thing shut down. The government may have funded the research, but it was the military's prerogative, and it's garnered unwanted public attention. We have a new ghost town on our hands." Bella hoped her added testament of Chuck's betrayal would help convince the others to ditch the scientist. She also hoped the other two had caught it before breaking down into a fight.

"Calm down, Castiel." Sam repeated, putting his attention toward Castiel, intending on getting back to Bela and Chuck later. "Chuck is the only one with answers."

"He's also the one with the worst intentions." Cas growled as he gently wrapped the blanket around Dean's shoulders, "We'll figure this out," he whispered.

"No, Cas." Sam walked over to him and placed a firm hand on his shoulder, "You aren't taking Dean with you."

Cas glared up at Sam, "Excuse me?" he turned to square his shoulders in Sam's direction.

"I said; you aren't taking _my brother_." Sam gave that slight tilt of his head as he spoke that was a good indicator of how angry he was. Little twitches here and there were the first hints as to his anger level.

Dean had tensed when Castiel let go to collect their things before taking off. He didn't want Castiel to leave his side, not now. The pain was beginning to subside, but Cas' presence was comforting. Dean wished Cas didn't feel so helpless, he needed to find a way to tell him that he's done plenty. And then the shouting started. When Sam disagreed, you'd better listen to what he has to say, or there'll be hell to pay. It made Dean smile, listening to Sam speak so defensively of family. Dean had been sure their family was dead, an old discarded notion.

Cas stood facing Sam for a moment, neither stepped down, both were trying to look out for Dean and both believed the other was going about it in the wrong way. "You've been betrayed by your comrades," Sam tried to speak calmly though he could tell that it was bothering Cas, "I understand that, but right now you need to think rationally. Dean needs our help, and leaving Chuck won't do what you hope it will. Calm down, okay?"

Cas grit his teeth, he felt as if Sam was talking down to him, disrespecting him. "Who do you think you are?" he snapped, "Like you know best for him? Or for me? Have you been betrayed before, Sam? I imagine you've done most of it, never being on the receiving end. Your faith in Chuck is misplaced, do you think trusting him will get do what _you_ hope it will?"

Sam shook his head, "I said calm down." He was speaking through grit teeth, his seething breaths becoming more and more difficult to hold back.

As Castiel argued with Sam, he had been preparing Dean to go. Dean felt like a six month old baby, being wrapped in blankets and fought over without being consulted about what he wanted. Cas whispered his assurances, 'we'll figure this out.' Dean nodded. He believed Castiel, every time Cas would make a reassuring comment, Dean put his full faith in him. "It'll be ok," "I'll protect you," "we'll figure this out," "I'll never leave you." Not only did Dean want to believe him, he needed to. With everything going on in the last 72 hours Dean found that he needed some kind of hope, just around the time that it seemed to fade. He was sure Castiel wouldn't let him down.

Cas, on the other hand, couldn't take it anymore. He swung wide with one hand, knowing Sam would block it, which he did. That's when Cas brought in his other hand for a quick jab to Sam's gut. The taller man curled over himself, not expecting Castiel to be as strong as he was. Sammy wasn't about to hold back, he wouldn't take a punch like that and not retaliate, though the intelligence in him told him to take his own advice and calm down. He swung back, despite Cas' attempt to block it he stood no chance against Sam's power. Castiel stumbled back and hit the floor, he was about to leap back to his feet but Sam was already on top of him, pinning him to the floor. "Calm. Down."

Dean shuddered as he heard the first hit land, Sam doubling over from Castiel's strike. He hated seeing people he loved fight –just hated it. "Stop," he whispered, but he knew they couldn't hear him. Dean tried to pull his cocooned self off the bed, but struggled to do so. "Please, stop." Again, too quiet. Castiel hit the floor by the time Dean sat upright. Sam's cooler head finally prevailed –sort of, and Dean was let in on the decision making.

Just like any man loved a cat fight, Bella stood back in glowing admiration of the two highly attractive, muscled men throwing punches at each other. Castiel was downright pissed off, and Sam wasn't far behind. They much like battling alpha males, fighting for leadership of the pack. One of them had to be right, but more importantly, one of them had to be wrong.

Cas' mind was a little shaken but he realized that fighting Sam was a stupid idea. He slowly nodded his head and looked over at Dean, "Dean, I'm sorry." He breathed, "What do you feel more comfortable with?"

"I want to stay away from labs. I want rest, food, attention, and quiet. I want to keep my brother with me, and I want to finally spend some quality time with my new boyfriend." Dean looked at the two of them, and found himself amused at the sight of Sam pinning Castiel to the floor. "Could you two please stop fighting? Or at least fight in a pool of jell-o next time?" He smirked, amused at his own joke. He was feeling much better now that the mutating had finally stopped. Black veins, bio-hazard eye, black armor-plated spine, and a tail; yup, he should've just stayed late at the bar.

The fight had ended, leaving both stubborn men looking in Dean's direction. Cas felt another sting in his chest when he saw how badly Dean had been struggling to stop them. He obviously hit a sore spot when he started yelling, though he wasn't sure what it was. He wanted to be with Dean, he wanted to just sit together and watch a sunset or something cheesy like that. Bela's outburst earlier about his being a soldier for the country, giving himself to the country and them having all the rights to do what they wished to him... that really hit home. He wanted to serve and protect, but he didn't want his kindness and loyalty to be abused. When can a soldier draw the line? When can he decide when it's no longer acceptable for them to treat him that way?

"**If I were you, I'd have preferred it be me."**

Of course he preferred it had been him, but he already knew he was immune to it. He didn't like her tone but at the time he was too busy trying to take care of Dean, or was he arguing with Sam? What were his priorities? Dean. He said it before, he thought it was true. So why hadn't his actions proved it? Because he wasn't focused on Dean, not when it really mattered. He was stuck on himself, his problems, and what everyone else was saying. He was trying to figure this whole situation out. He said it was for Dean, though he wasn't sure anymore.

Bela said that Chuck had told the FBI where they were... Or that's what she said, anyway. Cas didn't trust her from the moment he saw her back in the airport. His gut was telling him to take Dean and go, to take Dean and Sam and just get the hell out of there. But he knew that they needed someone else too, preferably someone with money.

"**I want to stay away from labs. I want rest, food, attention, and quiet. I want to keep my brother with me, and I want to finally spend some quality time with my new boyfriend."**

He was caught off guard by Dean's words; he looked over at him and smiled. They shared a common goal, Cas felt comforted to know that much at least. He nodded his head, "I'm sorry, I won't fight your brother like this again, I promise." He looked up at Sam, "That apology extends to you as well, forgive me?"

Sam looked over at Dean and laughed a little bit, "Jell-o, huh? Make it pudding and we have a deal." He helped Cas to his feet again, "Of course I do."

"I realized something stupid," Dean admitted, looking at Castiel sheepishly. "I forced you to drop me off at my car, which resulted in my infection, just to ditch my car at the airport. What the hell."

The two men were smiling at one another when Dean voiced his ridiculous realization. Sam slowly rolled his eyes while Castiel let out one of those loud laughs, just like the one he'd done in the diner at the 'tofu' joke.

"Dean," Sam's voice had taken that 'bitchy' tone of his, leading him to say Dean's name the same way he would when entirely fed up with the guy. "Seriously? You got infected because of Dad's car?" he thought about the fact that the town was going to be bombed and nodded, "Yeah okay, it makes sense."


	12. Chapter 12

Bella and Chuck were still staring each other down, neither of them fully trusted by the other three, but Chuck was currently in poorer standing. Bella had come clean about what she knew to Sam, and had expressed sentiments of humanity when it came to the treatment of other people, putting her higher on Sam's list than Chuck. She had no idea how Dean and Castiel would take to her, neither of them had even seemed to notice. But she did know that Castiel didn't like Chuck either. It was just a matter of convincing Dean.

Cas looked at the agent and scientist stare-off and shook his head. Bela was trying to get them on her side while Chuck was trying to stay on their good side by avoiding responsibility. Cas' blue eyes stared at Chuck, part of him felt bad for what he said, though another part was content with how their conversation went. Chuck was a scientist that played with human life, even though they weren't entirely willing or knowledgeable about the experiments. It made sense to hate him, but it also made sense to hate Bella.

"Ya know..." he muttered, "This whole thing is a big mess."

Bella addressed Castiel, "I'm sure you spent most of your government spending allowance on plane tickets. If you plan on leaving, you're going to need to get a hotel, or another plane ride. I can help," she sounded as sincere as could be, eyes wide and voice pleasant. Not too pleasant of course, that just sounds fake. "Not to mention that since I'm not reporting in, they may be sending more agents. Then I'm in as much trouble as you are. We should probably leave, it won't be safe here."

Cas looked at her, still not sure of how he felt about her. She'd snapped at him just before about giving his life up for his country and now she was trying to plead her case and stick with their group. His eyes were stern, unyielding and showing no signs of weakness toward her. He wasn't going to give in to her, he wasn't going to trust her, but using her for money purposes was sounding like a good idea.

Dean stared for a moment, wrapped in blankets and sitting on the edge of the bed. "Aren't you the bitch who was going to shoot my brother?" He sounded sincerely pissed. Castiel had been carrying him at the time, and Dean was able to look behind them as they ran. He was passing out at the time, but he was certain he had seen the shorter agent take aim at them.

Cas snorted a laugh and looked over at Dean, "Baby, you are adorable." He didn't want to steal Dean's thunder but that was just too damned cute. It was true, but still cute.

"That was strictly business. Sam and I have worked things out, so I wouldn't worry about it Dean," Bella purposefully used Dean's name in addressing him as a show of good faith to Sam –no more calling him 'the infected civilian.'

Bela's response wasn't as adorable, however. Cas looked over at her, "Strictly business? You're clearly married to your job, miss. How are we supposed to trust you knowing that?" he didn't want to let her think he was just going to let her come with willy-nilly.

Dean looked her over and then looked at Chuck. Chuck had known everything about everything since he clambered out of that military jeep in sector 5, and he never said a word. Never warned them, nothing. Now he was still collecting data, and he was still denying responsibility. "I don't like you," Dean scowled at Chuck, "You've been caught red-handed in your shit, and all you do is deny it and shove responsibility off onto someone else. From what I know, the head scientist did the planning, you would've done all those tests to all those people. You would've been the one running most of this. And you can't take any goddamned responsibility. I don't care if you can help me, I don't trust you." Dean looked over at Sam and then Cas, "Let's leave."

Bella perked up, "Great! Let's get going." About to lead the way, Dean stopped her.

"Not so fast," Dean's tone was still serious, commanding.

"What?" Bella turned around to face him. What she had really been thinking was more along the lines of 'what_ now_,' but she didn't say that.

"I still don't trust you, but we do need your help. Give your gun to Sam and we'll be good."

That really put a damper on things. Bella hesitated slightly, relinquishing her gun put her in a very bad situation. One super human, a trained soldier, and a gargantuan college boy who can take down a trained soldier. She removed the gun from her holster and removed the clip before handing the empty weapon to Sam. She smiled up at him while placing the gun in his hand, truly hoping that they had managed to get along well enough before that she wouldn't be needing that. "The point is to take away my weapon, right? Not arm you guys. Are we good now? We can go?" She raised her eyebrows as she asked the questions, evidently eager to get out of there.

Dean turning on Chuck, saying what everyone else wanted to but in his 'Dean way', made Sam smile. Sam always admired that Dean could put just about anything into a moving, moral speech. Cas was quickly learning that he _really_ liked the assertive Dean, he smiled as he watched Bela grudgingly remove her gun.

Sam took the handgun from her and looked into her eyes, he could tell that there was still a scheming little worm inside, but he figured that with enough time he could remove it. He smiled back, "Right, just taking the threat away. We're good."

"You can't just leave me here," Chuck protested. "I swear I'm not trying to hurt you. I've stuck with you guys this long, doesn't that mean anything?" 

"No, Chuck. It doesn't.' Dean wound up and punched Chuck in the face –probably one of the most satisfying things he'd done since eating that bacon cheeseburger.

Chuck's worried voice washed over them and Dean promptly took care of it. Cas felt shivers run down his spine as he watched the scientist reel back from the force of Dean's fist. A lustful smile came over his lips, "Very nice," he looked at Dean's naked form, starting to wish they were the only ones in the room.

Dean dropped Chuck with ease. He was surprised at how easy the scientist fell, the last guy he punched stood there and gave him that 'whatcha do that for?' look. Dean smirked, proud of the strides he was taking in regaining some control in his life. And then he heard Castiel's lustful observation.

Dean realized that punching a man with full wind up had required him to drop his covers. He'd been too pissed off to care before, but with Castiel's observant eyes on him, Dean couldn't help the red tint that encroached onto his face. He tried to play it off, but he still wasn't sure if he should be entirely embarrassed or somewhat complimented. Castiel wanted him, Dean could tell. It was that expression in his voice, a subtle thing. Somehow, Dean had moved from petty, cute, and in need of protection to fuckworthy. Dean looked at Cas, and saw the man blatantly checking him out, eyes roaming up and down Dean's body. _'Why don't you just lick your lips and toss me on the bed already?'_ Dean knew now wasn't the time, he knew he had more than just Castiel's eyes on him, and he sorely wished he had some clothes.

"Alright, let's go." Dean looked over at Cas and smiled, proving he was doing better if mouthing off and punching a scientist hadn't already. Dean hesitated, "They're not going to let me on a plane without any clothes. And no one here has any extras, do they?" Dean didn't want to hear someone suggest Chuck's wardrobe –the man was smaller than Dean, by Dean's recognition of himself. But with his declining health, it probably wouldn't be a bad fit. He just didn't want to hear that.

Dean's wishes for clothes made Cas pout a little, he wanted his boyfriend naked and back on that bed. However the situation called for something much different, so he nodded, "Right clothes..." Cas watched Dean's eyes for a moment, then looked his body over again. They were about the same size, but Cas didn't have much for clothes with him. He had what he was wearing and a few other things. "Let me see what I can find." He walked into the other room and stared down at the unconscious agent that Sam had carelessly left on the floor. Rolling his eyes, Cas found something that would do the same job as rope and tied the man to the nearest post.

Dean was a little surprised that Castiel was more turned on than offended by his appearance. He was obviously enjoying the sights, but Dean hadn't forgotten his own appearance. The more that was discussed about this whole project, the more it seemed that these black veins were permanent and there to stay. The toxic-induced tattoos only added to Dean self consciousness about his appearance –it had been bad enough when all he was hiding were the scars Jake had given him. Dean's tail swayed back and forth, reminding himself and Cas of the mutation. It didn't seem to bother the soldier as much now that Dean was up and talking.

"Thank you," Dean replied when Cas left to see what he could find in the way of clothes. The thanks wasn't only for the clothing or the effort to find some, it was also for the understanding Castiel had for Dean's condition. Dean imagined that if Castiel had his truck, finding clothes wouldn't be a problem. Dean collected the blankets from the floor and sat back down on the bed while he waited for Cas to return. "What?" was all the remark he could muster for those with lingering stares. Bella just smirked.

"If you're going to be punching scientists unconscious while naked, couldn't you at least do it in a pool of jell-o?" She shot at him sarcastically.

"Ha ha," humour evidently absent from Dean's voice.

Dean looked over at Sam, he was curious what he brother was thinking. Was he looking? What was his opinion? IF he was looking, what was he looking at; the tail? The veins? The scars? Or would he just be looking at Dean? Was it with pity or concern? Dean shook his head, maybe Sam wasn't looking at all. Maybe he was thinking about something else. Dean looked back down at the floor, embarrassed that the situation had occurred in the first place.

Cas quickly returned with his extra bag and handed Dean a black t-shirt, army-style pants and a belt, "Here you go." He smiled, "So where are we flying to? Hawaii? Cuba? Europe somewhere? Did we already decide this and I totally forgot?" He laughed a little, he was really glad to see Dean had improved quite a bit, no longer screaming in pain or slowly falling into a coma.

Cas watched Dean for a moment, taking in the sights and expressions of his boyfriend. The problem he had was that no matter how he looked, how he spoke, Dean was still self-conscious and scared. Cas felt even more useless, knowing that he hadn't done anything to help Dean at all. He dragged him into this military crap, got him infected, and now they were running around aimlessly. He desperately wanted to know what to do, how he could help. He'd always run on orders, but now he was the highest commanding officer in the room, since they clearly weren't going to be listening to Bella any time soon.

Dean looked at Cas' spare clothes and laughed a little, "Awesome. Commando it is." Dean wasn't sure if what he was trying to accomplish with that comment, but he evidently found it funny as a half smirk was clearly visible on his face while he pulled the spare clothes on. "It's a damned shame I don't have shoes."

"Beggars can't be choosers," Bella waved a tell-tale finger back and forth, scolding Dean's greed.

Cas smiled a little at that, "It's not such a bad thing," Cas said jokingly. "And I don't see why you can't wear your own shoes still, they're leather, right? Would they absorb the toxin too?" he doubted it, though he supposed it was probably better to be safe than sorry.

"Whatever. I'm just going to take this opportunity to remind you all that I hate flying. And as for where we're going, I don't think anyone's decided yet." Dean thought about it, where would he want to go? He had Sam, Castiel, and a zombie apocalypse. "If we're running from an impending apocalypse, we'd want to leave the country. If we're running from the government, we'd want to leave the country. So I guess Europe?"

"Europe sounds good," Cas nodded quickly agreeing, though Bella shot them both down.

Bella shook her head. "Do any of you bozos have ID on you? It's hard enough to get ID-less intracountry flights. Going to Europe would be impossible."

Dean shrugged, "We could make Ids."

"Don't tell that to an FBI agent," Bella sighed. In better condition Dean would obviously be a snarkier, smart-ass of a guy; apparently with some criminal tendencies. "We're not leaving the country. Pick somewhere else." Bella had other reasons to keep them this side of the border, for one her ability to act was hindered outside the states. For another, she never actually intended to allow them to escape.

Cas turned an annoyed look on her, "First, you aren't calling the shots. Second, I'm still not trusting you so stop acting like I am." He hated that, she thinks that if they treat Chuck worse than her she's in the trustworthy group. "Anyway I've snuck onto..." he closed his mouth and shook his head, part of him was telling him not to say too much around her, so he trusted his instincts. "Whatever. We can't stay here; I vote that we move north. If anything will slow this virus down it's the cold temperatures of Canada so we jump the border." He nodded his head, figuring that was a good direction to go, or at least to say he wanted to go with that plan while Bella was in the room.

While Chuck was easily pushed around and ignored, he didn't have any power over them. Bella, on the other hand, had connections. She could bring a totally different power down on their heads, something Chuck just couldn't do.

Sam looked at Cas and then Dean, he knew that they were well grounded in their suspicions of both Bela and Chuck, but he couldn't help but feel both the scientist and agent were necessary. "Give Chuck a bit of a break, guys. He's an idiot, yes, but I think we should take him with. Granted," he looked over at Chuck, referring back to an earlier excuse he'd made, "you didn't help the FBI agents stop us in the terminal because there was no way you could have, I mean you're tiny and all I had to do was drag you along." He looked back at Cas and Dean, "But he's in trouble, just like we are. I mean look at him, he's small, pathetic, whiny, easy to push around and persuade with the right amount of threatening and physical force. Is it so hard to believe that he did that stuff? Or that he wouldn't tell us? Even in Dean's beaten state he's still capable of beating Chuck to within an inch of his life. And that's just Dean, Cas is a soldier and I'm... really big." He shrugged, hoping he was making some sense.

Cas, having thought they were past this, looked over at Sam again, "You want to take Chuck with us?"

Sam nodded, "Yes, Chuck needs our help now too. Plus we're probably gonna end up neck deep in this shit and I think having Chuck would not only be good for us, but it would drag him through what he did, make him see what happens when you mess with stuff like this." Sam glanced at Chuck, hoping the man saw what he was trying to do and went along with it.

Chuck was more than grateful when Sam came to his rescue. He nodded gingerly, "Yes, please help. I'm not a bad guy, I swear." Sam's explanation included dragging Chuck through unpleasantries, and Chuck sincerely hoped Sam was just saying that to convince the others to bring Chuck with for other reasons if they didn't have sympathy.

Cas looked at both of them before sighing and shaking his head. He glanced at Chuck one more time, then at Bela, and then back at Dean. "One condition, Chuck." Cas walked over to the scientist, probably sprawled on the floor after the punch, "You do as I say, whenever you're going to make a move, a decision, or whatever, you run it past me first. Am I clear? I am your commanding officer now; if you step out of line, there will be consequences." He wanted to leave Chuck there, he wanted to leave Bela there, and at the same time he wanted to take them both with. He was having a hard time figuring Chuck out, at first the man seemed simple but after putting all of that suspicion on him he started to appear more complex. And then, after the way Sam had put it, it all looked simple again.

"Can I ask you a question?" Cas tilted his head slightly, "Why didn't you tell us before? Is Sam right? Answer truthfully; I'll know if you're lying." His blue eyes pierced Chuck's, not flinching or looking away.

Chuck was terrified when Cas came down on him with the authority of a master chief. "I-I-I'm not trained! I don't know! I'm sorry. Ok, I'll listen but... but do I have to ask for permission for everything? Like breathing and going to the washroom? I don't know how strict you are..." Chuck was nervously fiddling with his fingers, looking left and right, anywhere but into Castiel's ice blue eyes.

Chuck's annoying voice stammered out another jumble of words that Cas wasn't even sure the scientist understood what he was saying. Instead of caving and being a nice guy, the soldier kept his intimidating stance and pissed off expression trained on Chuck, "Yes," he said sternly, "You will ask me before leaving my sight, asking me to use the restroom only makes sense. Breathing you're already doing and I haven't shot you for it so obviously you don't have to ask for that." He shook his head, "Just don't ask stupid questions. You're a scientist, I'm sure you know what a stupid question is." He didn't feel like explaining trivial things to a terrified moron at that moment. He looked over at Sam and sighed heavily, turning his head in Dean's direction.

As Cas seemed to give in, Sam looked over at Dean and Bela, his trademark puppy-look creeping onto his face. "Please?"

Dean made the mistake of looking at Sam, the puppy-dog stare bore into him relentlessly. "Fine," Dean folded. That was one thing about Sam he didn't miss. "Sammy, tell me again, how can you be such a total bitch, an imposing giant, and a whimpering puppy all at the same time?"

Sam smiled when Dean gave in to his look, a silent _yes!_ exclaimed in his mind. He just shrugged at Dean's question, he had a few comebacks in mind but he figured that there was no way Dean could withstand a verbal assault. Especially not one from Sam.

Bella's phone rang. She smirked, knowing she wasn't under as strict a rule as Chuck. If it were his phone, he'd have to ask Castiel for permission to answer. Bella picked up, "Hello? No, no, we lost them. No, I lost him too. He's not answering his phone?" Bella went silent for a few minutes after that. Her expression grew darker. "Yes, yes sir. I will get back to you as soon as I can."

Bella's ringtone caught the attention of everyone in the room. Sam glanced nervously at the phone, he hadn't quite dragged her to his side yet so her talking to someone else made him anxious. She did say that she had lost them, or at least that's what it sounded like. Though her darkening expression and quick 'yes sir's' made him even more nervous. Saying yes or no from her end could mean she was answering any question, the fact that she said yes made it even worse.

Bella closed her phone and shot a death glare at Dean and Castiel. "You left a toxic corpse at a gas station?" She was fuming mad. "Do you have any idea how out of control this is? They've only retrieved two legs so far. That damn thing was run over by a semi truck. The rest of that bioweapon could be all over the country by now!"

Dean looked at Cas, knowing the soldier had nothing to do with the spreading infection. That was Dean's fault, him and his addiction to his car. "I'm sorry."

"Alright, let's calm down and think about this," Bella started pacing, a frustrated hand rubbing her right temple. "With a viral infection of this magnitude, there's a fairly strong possibility that the airports may shut down. We're bordering on an issue of national security here. We can't risk flying. I don't know about you guys, but I need to find out what happened to those other body parts. I'm leaving you guys on your own if you have a different plan. Sam, I need my gun back."

Cas turned to face her, "The corpse at the gas station was an accident. That was when Dean had been riding in the car with it for about an hour already, he was disoriented and infected, you can't blame him for this. This project should have been shut down immediately, why didn't anyone see that this was going to be a big fucking problem?" He was pissed at not just the scientists for doing, but the government for letting it happen, and the military for asking for it. He looked at Dean, "Don't apologize, this isn't your fault." He tried to keep his tone softer for Dean but this time it had come out a little more aggressive because of his anger.

He caught himself this time and quickly gave Dean a hug, "Don't blame yourself for this, you were dragged into it. It isn't your fault, never was." He reassured Dean again, still wishing he could do more.

Sam looked at Bella, "All over the country by now? If a semi hit it, it would have mostly splattered there on the parking lot, right? Why would most of it be scattered around the country?" The story didn't quite fit, she was probably exaggerating, though he couldn't be sure. Chances were good that a dog or something took the bits that it could carry. "Why do you need to find out what happened to the missing body parts?"

"Because she's married to her job," Cas added spitefully. "I don't like that you answered your phone like that, I thought you intended to run with us because 'you were in trouble too'?" Cas was more than annoyed with the tag alongs, first Chuck was being a whiny bitch, demanding too. Then Bella started trying to take over. She was obviously still working for the FBI, she was just stuck in a bad situation with them so she was trying to win them over. "I'm not falling for your bullshit, Bella." He shook his head, "No, we're definitely going to come up with a different plan. You're on your own."

"Hold on a sec," Sam interjected again, another individual that Cas was starting to notice a pattern with. "It would be a good idea to check out what happened to the missing parts."

"No it wouldn't, Sam. Dean's already infected and you want to take him back to where the toxins are coming from? The areas that it will be most dense in? Bad idea." He was speaking not only for Dean but Sam too, Cas already knew that he had immunities to it, but the Winchesters obviously did not.

"Well what if there are others who need our help?" Sam added, though part of him knew he just wanted to know. Damn his curiosity.

Castiel shook his head, "What kind of help can we offer, Sam? We're sitting here with a scientist trying to experiment on Dean, and an FBI agent that's gingerly trying to get to know us to drag us in. She isn't coming up with plans to help us, she's coming up with plans to help _her_. I don't trust her, we aren't going with her. As soon as Bella is gone, we're out of here and for her sake I hope we never meet up again."

Sam frowned, "But-"

"But nothing, Sam." Cas wasn't planning on fighting Sam, but an argument would be okay he figured, though Dean seemed to be very uncomfortable with it the first time. "I don't care if you have a crush on her, or whatever. We aren't going with her, she is untrustworthy."

Sam sighed and looked over at Bella who clearly wanted her gun back, feeling defiant toward Cas, he placed the gun in her hand. "Do what you have to do, then." He said to her.


	13. Chapter 13

"_I don't know about you guys, but I need to find out what happened to those other body parts. I'm leaving you guys on your own if you have a different plan."_

"_Why do you need to find out what happened to the missing body parts?"_

"_Because she's married to her job,"_

"_No, we're definitely going to come up with a different plan. You're on your own."_

Bela planned on leaving, Sam had questions and Castiel didn't plan on trusting her further than he had to.

"Can you tell me something?" Cas looked over at Bella, "Why is it that you have to see what happened to those body parts? Why is it so important?" But she had something of her own to say.

Bella frowned, "I thought you signed up because you wanted to help people." Bella continued to prod Cas' wounded military ego. "To 'serve and protect' and all that garbage? If you only wanted to help those you loved, you would've stayed at home with them. You wanted to help the many, and not just the few. Or you just wanted to get your rocks off with all the power you can control. Either way, you running right now doesn't make any sense to anyone.

"You mock me for my loyalty to my job when anyone else should be mocking you for your disloyalty." Bella was pissed, and on a roll. "You really are a pathetic little man. You want to know what I think? Of course you don't, but I don't care. I think the reason you're so mad at my job dedication is because you don't have it. You're officially considered AWOL and you know it. There is no taking you back anymore. You're screwed, and instead of fixing it you're running away. So if you want to be angry with me for serving my country than fine. I have helped you; I have given you useful information when you needed it. I even revealed things Chuck wouldn't share. You are simply unappreciative, self important runaways." The angrier Bella was, the thicker her accent became.

"I care what happens to the body parts because I don't want a bunch of other unsuspecting civilians to get caught in this bio-weapon warfare like Dean has. They don't deserve it. I don't believe Dean deserved it either, and I personally don't like scientists trying to play god. There are my reasons. I don't know why you asked because I know you won't care." Bella turned to Sam, "Thank you." She loaded the firearm and belted it under her suit jacket. "I'm sorry things turned out this way. Maybe we can meet again sometime."

Castiel flinched at every word that came out of Bella's mouth. She was right, of course. He was disloyal and he should be ashamed of it, but at that moment nothing really compared to Dean. To serve and protect, to fight and die for your country, was it garbage? Is that what he thought it was, considering he'd completely abandoned his military?

No, she was wrong. He had other priorities, that didn't mean he as low and foul as she seemed to indicate. He'd given his life to his country, that was true. However his superior officers decided to abuse the loyalty of their soldiers, using them as lab-rats in an attempt to make super soldiers. He didn't agree with that, it wasn't what he'd signed up for it, and it definitely wasn't something he was going to die for.

Bella began to exit the room, but that was something that Dean simply could not allow. He jumped at her, his right eye glowing angrily. With all his weight and the force he mustered from the jump, Dean tackled her to the floor where they landed with a heavy thud. He pinned her down and his tail swung out and poised for attack. The look on his face was almost animalistic in how angry he was.

"If you're so dedicated to your job, and unashamed of that dedication, then there's no way I'm letting you go. Because if I do, you're going to hand Castiel's location over to the army, and you're going to come after me again." Dean clenched his teeth, tired of being an object to the world. Sam was back, Sam cared. Castiel cared, hell, Castiel loved him. But Chuck? Dean may as well be a petree dish. And Bella? That stuff about protecting other civilians was obviously bullshit. "If you're leaving the group," Dean pushed her jacket open and took the handgun, "It'll be like the infected corpse: in pieces."

Bella had made no move to resist Dean's theft of her firearm, entirely due to the fact that he was partially crushing her arm under his knee and the fact that his spiked boney tail threatened to gouge out her throat.

Sam watched Bella as she took the gun from him and started toward the door, he still wasn't sure how he felt about her and he still didn't know if he was comfortable or ok with her leaving. However, before either Sam or Cas could react to her attempted departure, Dean leapt forward, surprising all of them. "Dean," Both men spoke simultaneously, shock and surprise evident in their tones. Neither knew what to say as Dean nearly spat out one hell of a threat. They glanced at one another and a mutual expression passed between them, they were impressed that Dean was starting to act out, show some anger and even defend something he cared about.

Sam was used to Dean being kind of like that, though since they hadn't seen one another in so long that seemed to change. Now Dean was even more aggressive, animalistic, he attacked a federal agent for pete's sake. Not that Sam was entirely ok with Dean jumping on women, he couldn't help the anxious ball of nerves that formed in his stomach when he saw how ready Dean was to kill her.

Dean got up off of Bella and looked over at Cas. "Here," he handed Cas her gun. "Either we take her as a prisoner or we shoot her here to avoid the trouble." Dean already had a hunch that Sam was going to protest the latter option, but that was why Dean handed the gun to Castiel and not to Sam.

Cas took the gun and nodded, happy to have the chance to be rid of her, "Wait!" Sam put his hand on the gun's muzzle, causing Cas to roll his eyes and put the thing away, not wanting to cause another one of these fights.

"I get it, I get it." Cas looked down at Bella and sneered, "Consider yourself lucky," he quickly hurried out of the room

Chuck cleared his throat, "In all honesty, I think Bella was trying to escape. Remember what I said earlier about the dosage? It has to be a significant amount of toxin to jump start the mutations. If the body has been broken apart, it's not a hazard. Dean received the majority of the toxins, and those would have spewed from the cavities in the torso. If the government already has the legs, there's no way the corpse is toxic anymore. I wouldn't worry about that. The problem is," Chuck looked over at Bella, who was back on her feet and standing nearer to Sam, a sort of last hope on her part. "She would have known that."

Cas had returned with something that resembled rope, enough to tie both Bella and Chuck if he needed to. He'd heard Chuck's explanation from the other room and glanced at his boyfriend.

Dean's unimpressed expression remained, even grew more pissed off as Bella's attempted escape was explained. Dean scowled, "I really don't like her." He looked at Cas again, "Let's get going. If we're not going to shoot her than we should tie her up, but I don't want to take her with us." Again, a little voice in the back of Dean's head reminded him that Sam tended to protest almost every action and this one was probably not an exception.

Everything Chuck had said about Bella seemed to make sense, Sam was torn. He liked her; she was smart, clever, funny, and really cute. Hell, he wouldn't be surprised if she found them again somehow, and he knew that if she did, she wouldn't be too friendly. These seemed to be good reasons to keep her with them, though not good enough, especially when weighed against the thought of being caught having her tied up in the backseat or something. She was clever, and much less trouble when they weren't trying to keep her with them.

"You can't be serious," Bela eyed the rope Castiel took into the room with him. "First of all, where do you keep getting that? Second, you can't just tie me up and leave me here." Bela mouthed off as usual, but truth be told, she was more than frightened. She had come around to Sam's way of thinking to a point. She felt bad for Dean, a civilian caught in the cross-fire of a government fuck up. Just a victim. She hated allowing herself to think like that, but the man was just so wounded and pathetic she couldn't help it. That was until he tackled her to the floor and threatened to kill her.

She had seen the other two exchanged approving glances, and couldn't help but think them stupid, "And this is ok?" She spat, furious at their apparent lack of critical thinking. "He has violent outbursts and murderous tendencies! Shouldn't that sort of behaviour warrant some kind of concern for toxic based insanity?"

Dean was upset enough already that they weren't going to kill her. Leaving her alive was a bad idea, and Dean had figured that prisoner or dead were the only two options. He hoped this wouldn't come back to bite them in the ass. For good measure, and to shut her the hell up, Dean back-handed her across the face. "Would you zip it?" He growled, "You should be happy that you're even alive." Dean didn't stop to realize that the timing of his aggressive actions after her statement on his mental state was poorly timed.

Castiel shrugged, smirking a little. Bela obviously had no idea how annoying she was, "If I were him I'd threaten you too, he just happens to need instincts to tell him to do it." Cas was a little concerned with Dean's outburst, but he honestly figured that if Dean was going to attack someone like that frequently, he'd just keep his boyfriend indoors, or away from people. Dean was probably going to stay away from crowds anyway, so Cas figured that it wasn't something he needed to worry too much about.

Dean put on his shoes and grabbed his dad's old leather jacket. At this point in time he didn't care if it was toxic -it was his dad's and he wanted to wear it. End of story. Besides, it wouldn't be infecting anyone else, by the sounds of what Chuck said. Dean made a mental note to bring it to a dry cleaner later.

"We'll have to hotwire a car. I can do that no problem." Dean was walking out the door, expecting Cas to fall in step beside him.

As Sam pondered the ups and downs of the situation, Cas approached Bella and tied her up, as to Dean's request. This time he didn't care if Sam protested, he intended to at least do this much. "I don't like her either, baby." He said in response to Dean, finishing his knot. "If you can hotwire us a car it'll be smooth sailing." He marched along right next to Dean, leaning over and kissing his new boyfriend's cheek. "I'm very impressed with you, by the way." He ruffled Dean's hair and was about to kiss him again when Chuck spoke up. Castiel seemed to be the one thing that kept Dean calm. Dean melted inside every time the man referred to him in the possessive. Dean smiled when Cas kissed him on the cheek, and turned in to face him for another. Chuck caught Cas' attention, and Dean was ready to throttle him too.

"Uhm, we could go to Dr. Zachariah's back up lab outside of Buffalo. I mean, if you were still interested in following up on that."

Dean shot Chuck a death glare, "Look, Bella suggested we follow up on the damned corpse. And now you, a scientist, is suggesting we follow up on the scientist? I don't think so. I don't want to see Dr. Zachariah. You can forget about it. As a matter of fact, you can just leave. And screw Canada, I have something else in mind." Dean didn't want to say out loud what the change of plans was, in case Chuck and Bella turned out to be rats.

Castiel shook his head after Dean's outburst, agreeing with him wholeheartedly. "Chuck, you're a smart guy, right? So I'm sure you'll understand why I'm doing this." He turned around and tied Chuck down with Bella. "Bye guys, it's been a pleasure." He said with a sarcastic smile before turning around and dragging Sam away. "Let's go, big guy."

Sam nodded; glancing over his shoulder at the two they left tied to one another and mouthed an apology. He felt bad for doing that to them, after dragging Chuck along through the airport and all. As they were leaving the apartment the first FBI agent started to get up, though that was short lived since he was met with Sam's rather angry boot-to-the-head. He was unconscious again when they left the building.

On his way out the door, Dean couldn't help but notice a prominent cracking sound -like boot meets face. He turned to glance back, the other FBI agent -that Dean didn't even know was there, was unconscious on the floor with one hell of a nose bleed. Dean couldn't help but laugh. "Good one, Sammy."

Cas glanced back at the man that Sam kicked and just snickered, apparently someone was a little more pissed off than they originally thought. It was best that Sam kept his anger pointed at random agents.

Sam wanted to protest the 'sammy' comment, but he figured it best to shut up. He didn't want to provoke Dean at all, or make him feel bad. Hell, he knew that Bela had a point but what could he say? That Dean's animalistic nature was going to be dangerous? Dean was self-conscious as it was, he didn't need Sam poking at it.

* * *

><p>Dean hotwired a car with ease. "It's going to be a long drive," he warned before jumping in the driver's seat. Beating on scientists and women had apparently renewed some small sliver of confidence. "I'm going to pass through Kansas again to pick up my car. We'll break there while I get her cleaned up. And then we're going to California. This crap about science and bio weapons and stuff can all just stop. So I look like a freak, so what? No one's going to know that I didn't do it on purpose. Sam can go to school, and we'll temporarily crash at his place. How's that sound?" Dean looked to his right at Cas, and then glanced in the backseat for Sam's input as well.<p>

Sam wasn't surprised when Dean hotwired the car, he was good at that sort of thing. He also wasn't surprised when Dean informed them that they'd be picking up his car. "We'll have to disinfect it somehow," Sam muttered, climbing into the backseat. He was a little uncomfortable, not a lot of leg room for him, but he was used to that kind of treatment by now. "I don't know about Cas, but I'm pretty sure that I'm not immune to this stuff, there are probably remnants left in the Impala." Sam wasn't so stupid that he'd suggest leaving the mobile beast behind, he knew how important it was to Dean.

Cas was entirely up for the road trip, he wanted to get some quality time with Dean and this was definitely the way to do it. "This is a good opportunity for me to get the shit left in my truck too," he nodded approvingly, "Good idea." Lately he'd been nothing but useless, even now Dean had been coming up with all of the ideas. However Cas was starting to feel better about it, seeing Dean's mood improving the more he got to take the wheel in his own life.

Once driving, the planning continued, "Well if no one wants me touching my car, and we know that you're not immune, then Castiel should do it." Dean looked beside him, "Do you think it would be too much trouble for you to clean out my car? Please?" Knowing the direction their relationship had taken so far, Dean was expecting that putting on a sad pleading face would get him what he wanted. He didn't mean to take advantage of Castiel's kindness, but he really, really wanted his car back.

Dean's pleas for Cas to clean out the car made him lift his hands in defeat, "Okay, okay. I'll do it, but just 'cause you asked so nicely." He laughed, he figured they both knew that he'd do it anyway, that car was important to Dean.

"If you wanted to just live a regular life like you were doing before then I'm all for it baby. If you're comfortable with it," Cas looked at Dean's tail for a moment.

Dean was slowly realizing that it wasn't just his opinion of the bio-mutations that mattered. There was this nagging feeling when Castiel left the decision to Dean, _"If you're comfortable with it,"_ Dean shook his head a little. Castiel didn't like the mutations. They weren't normal, and they probably freaked the shit out of him. Who wants a freakish looking boyfriend anyway? Military usually doesn't, they don't even like hippies. Then again, military usually doesn't mix with homosexuality either.

Dean's reaction to his 'if you're comfortable with it' made Cas roll his eyes again. Somehow he'd upset Dean, _again_. "Come on babe, I didn't mean it like that," he moaned, looking up at Dean with tired eyes. He wanted it all to go well but no matter what he said or did Dean took it the wrong way. "Don't make that face. You're beautiful to me and I think your tail is cool, okay? I've never been a big fan of normal." Cas kissed Dean's cheek again, smiling and hoping that he'd done a good job of calming things down between them.

Sam tried to keep his mouth shut, personally being a fan of normal. He didn't want to say that Dean's 'transformations' were worrisome but he kept an eye on that tail, just in case.

Sam leaned forward, "Dean, you're just going to give up and live with it? You don't want answers?" Sam couldn't stand not knowing things, and he knew that if he were in Dean's shoes he wouldn't rest until he figured out how to fix himself or perhaps figure out what the government was doing to fix the whole issue.

Dean looked back at Sam, "Yes, I plan on living with it. You're talking like it's a bulbous, cancerous sore the size of my head. It's not Petulio, so you can just chill." Dean figured he'd have to get used to the disapproving comments and stares. The rest of society would find him to be less than average and the stares would probably never stop. "Fuck them."

"If he searched for answers he'll be captured," Cas looked over his shoulder at Sam, "That's why we ran into Bella in the first place. We need to lie low for a little while."

Sam opened his mouth in protest but shut it again and nodded, "Sorry, Dean. I can be..."

As Sam searched for the right words Cas quickly filled it in, "Insensitive?"

Sam nodded, "Yeah," he pat Dean's shoulder, "I didn't mean anything by it."

Dean played with the dials on the car radio before finding a classic rock station to pin it at. The music eased the silent tension, and Castiel's stories did more of the same. Dean loved listening to Cas' war stories -they reminded him of his dad. Some of them were pretty funny, but not everything is fun and games. Castiel would on occaision start telling a funny story, only to realize half way through it that it didn't have such a funny ending. Moments like that caused a wave of silence to wash over the passengers.

The ride was a combination of quiet at select moments, or Castiel shared some combat stories with the brothers, trying to ease the tension and possible nerves. He knew they were driving into dangerous areas; there was no telling how bad that toxin had spread. Hell, it could be the zombie apocalypse in Kansas and they would be none the wiser, heading right into it.

* * *

><p>Later in the day Cas yawned loudly and looked at Dean, "I know you haven't slept. There's a motel up the road, let's stop there okay? I have enough money for it, so let's just get some sleep." He was tired too, which was what reminded him that Dean was awake at 5am when they'd met in the diner, plus he hadn't slept on the plane ride.<p>

Dean was partially nodding off when Castiel's yawn caught his attention. "Hm?" Dean looked over at Cas with bags under his eyes. "A motel? That sound amazing right now. I'm so beat." Dean pulled into the parking lot and stopped outside the motel office.

Once they pulled in and Castiel finished doing all the necessary running about and speaking to people, he directed them to their room. Once he opened the door he kicked his shoes off and fell face first into the nearest bed, a muffled, "Mine' was heard as he breathed into the cushions.

Dean decided staying out of sight would be better, and waited for Castiel to return and lead the way. Castiel used the key and swung open the door to a two queen room. Dean walked in and looked around, it wasn't bad for a random roadside motel. Before he could get to claiming a bed before Sam -a typical brotherly routine, Castiel was already face down in one.

After the stories and the music, talk of a motel stirred Sam out of a napping state. He groaned lightly before falling out of the car into the motel's parking lot. Cas had the keys and lead the way, Sam's tired form slowly trudging along behind them. Once the door was opened he ignored Cas' claims of one of the beds as he crawled into the other. At this point it didn't matter where he slept, there were two beds and three of them, all would get to sleep in one and he knew that Dean wanted to be with his boyfriend.

"Yours, huh? Well unfortunately you're going to have to share." Dean crawled into the bed next to Cas, rolling him over to get him out of the middle of the bed. Dean tossed his jacket onto the floor in between the two beds, followed by the black t-shirt Cas gave him earlier. After attempting to get comfortable, Dean realized that his tail did not agree with jeans, and he wondered if Cas would be alright with that. Dean glanced over at the soldier next to him. Whatever, they stopped because he was exhausted and needed sleep, and sleeping like this would not be restful. Dean wriggled out of his pants and tossed them on the floor as well.

Now completely naked, Dean was comfortably curled up under the covers. He snuggled in close to Cas, feeling more comfortable near the man, correction -near his boyfriend. Dean smiled and stifled a girlish giggle. He was finally able to relax with Castiel. No more scientists, no more FBI agents, just Cas. And of course his brother in the bed next to them.

Cas felt Dean' movement and shuffled aside to let his baby in, not only expecting but hoping he'd have to share the bed. He smiled at Dean as the man wriggled out of all his clothing, figuring he'd do the same. Cas sat up and peeled his shirts off, undid his belt and slid his pants off with general ease. Now in his underwear he remembered that Dean was going commando and smirked, that was just adorable. He pulled the covers over both of them and closed his eyes, though before he could drift into a peaceful sleep he felt something against his hip.

The only thing on the agenda for that night was sleep, everyone being too tired from the stress of the day before to do anything else. Dean was snuggled in close to Cas, and realized that he accidently rubbed against Castiel's hip. Dean flushed and hoped his soldier boyfriend wouldn't notice. Dean leaned up to kiss Cas goodnight, figuring the kiss would distract them both.

His eyes fluttered open just as Dean's lips came in to meet his, they both knew what had just happened and Cas couldn't stop the blood flow that was leaving his upstairs brain. He wrapped his arms around Dean and pulled him closer, reaching down he separated Dean's legs and intertwined them with his own. He started kissing Dean more passionately, both of their cocks were pressed up against one another and Dean would notice that Castiel's had long hardened.

Cas paused the kissing for a moment, his hands slowly sliding up Dean's hips and down again, "Hey," he whispered, his eyes trailing up Dean's body to meet the hazel orbs he knew would be staring lustfully back at him, "Are you ready for this?"


	14. Chapter 14

What started off as an accident escalated into something far better. Dean's intention had been to cuddle in close, finally feel the warmth of Castiel's body against his own. Feel welcome and feel wanted, comfortable. Nudging Castiel's thigh like that hadn't been part of the plan. Honestly, Dean wasn't sure if he was ready. Back in DC he had already wanted Cass, and Dean could clearly remember the lust-filled expression on Castiel's face when he checked Dean out. But want and actually being prepared were two different things.

Sheer desire took care of Dean's concerns and tossed them right out the window. His blood was pumping hard in his veins, and Castiel's eager and responsive reaction was thrilling. With their legs intertwined, Dean could feel the full, hardened length of Castiel's cock against his own. Dean moaned with pleasure, returning Castiel's passionate kisses. Dean noted that the hands of a soldier may be rough, Castiel's touch on him was gentle. His hands on Dean's hips ran shivers down his spine.

Dean's right eye glowed intensely bright with anticipation and excitement, his one remaining hazel eye seemed to hold a bottomless lustful depth.

"_Are you ready for this?"_

Without so much as a single thought manifesting in his head, Dean instinctively answered: "Oh god, yes."

Cas pulled himself up, checking the other bed to see if they'd disturb the younger brother. To his delight, Sammy was fast asleep, lightly snoring with his face buried in the pillow. Cas smiled and crawled on top of Dean, staring down at the beauty below him. He caressed Dean's cheek, sliding his hand down the other man's surprisingly smooth chest. His fingers trailed over to Dean's left nipple and ran his thumb over the nub. He leaned in and started trail kisses down Dean's collar, stopping at the right nipple and nibbling at it gently. He intended to work Dean up, get him more comfortable with the whole scenario before doing anything major. He knew that Dean would be nervous about the whole thing, considering his ex had been rather rough with him.

With that in mind, Castiel made a mental note to keep this time gentle, unless otherwise informed.

Castiel didn't need any further prompting from Dean before getting up. Dean wondered how "yes" meant "get off," but Castiel had no intention of leaving the man half worked up. Simply the touch of Castiel's hand down his chest was enough to give Dean shivers. He wasn't sure if it was actually because Castiel was touching him, because he could feel the compassion in Castiel's lustful advances, or due to the sheer anticipation. Probably all three. Castiel's lips over Dean's right nipple sent another wave of shivers down Dean's spine, causing his tail to twitch from the pleasure.

Castiel didn't seem to care at all that it was Dean's right side that bore all the strange black markings. Not phased, not weirded out, not even remotely concerned. This simple absent-minded acceptance put Dean at ease more than words ever could.

Cas slid his free hand up Dean's inner thigh and gently gripped his erection, getting a feel for his new property. "Very nice," he whispered, looking at Dean's face and taking in the expression he wore, "You're very well equipped, baby." He leaned up and kissed Dean's lips again, "Beautiful." He started stroking Dean's cock slowly, listening for the sounds his boyfriend made and using them as a judge in what motions he should repeat and where.

Dean's breath was coming in shorter gasps, excitement for the upcoming main event combined with Castiel's knowledgeable touch had him worked into a tizzy. His hips were unconsciously moving, searching for contact. Dean's breathing hitched when Castiel's fingers wrapped around his throbbing erection. Dean's eyes fluttered closed and his head tilted back as he let out a pleasured moan.

Leaning up to meet Castiel's kiss, Dean reached down to get a feel for Castiel. He said Dean was well equipped, but that may just be pretty words. Dean didn't have the time to get to know the area before Cas broke into a rhythmic pumping on Dean's already stiff member. Dean's head tilted back again, his back arching slightly. Castiel was being so kind, so attentive. It wasn't a race to orgasm, and it didn't have to be 'good enough' however Castiel felt like doing it. Cas was looking for how Dean wanted to do it. "Faster," Dean groaned, moving with the motions.

Cas' focus on Dean seemed to succeed, his boyfriend was so enthralled with the feeling of it that he could only try to touch back. The moaned word 'faster' was all Dean needed to say for Cas to quicken his pace, he listened closely to Dean's breaths and followed accordingly, like he'd been doing all along. He heard the hitch in his boyfriend's breathing and smirked.

As the pre-cum became visible Cas ran his thumb over it, he wished he'd already gotten back to his truck with all of his things in it, including different toys and lotions. Now _that_ would be a good time. He made do with what he had, using Dean's own semen to lube him up and increased his speed, pumping gently but making sure there was a pleasurable amount of pressure. He licked his lips as he watched the foreskin moisten further. His movements were graceful, surprising for a soldier. He focused all of his attention on Dean, knowing that he was never the center of attention during sex, or at least not in the last few years.

Climax had never been so sweet, Dean only wished Castiel could've taken it in instead of letting it waste. It would be a fun mess to sleep in. Dean's body collapsed on the bed with renewed exhaustion. His breathing came in unsteady gasps as he collected himself from what was hands down the best hand job of his life.

For the first time Cas got Dean off, he wanted to see the whole thing during their first run so he refrained from sucking the remaining climax out.

Dean reached a hand up and grabbed the hair on the back of Cas' head, pulling him down into a rough kiss. Cas smiled down at Dean before he was surprised when his hair was gripped and he was pulled into a fervent kiss. He didn't complain, it was amazing how different Dean was since they'd met. It was starting to look like he was finally getting some confidence back. "God, you are amazing." Dean said after finally breaking the prolonged exchange. "Your turn." Dean wrapped his arms around Castiel's neck and brought his body down to lay on him. Once entwined, Dean rolled the soldier over on to his back so Dean was perched on top. Breaking off the kiss again, Dean smirked at Castiel, loving the time they could finally share. Dean slowly sunk lower and found the focus of his attention.

Cas felt a shiver run down his spine as he listened to the aggression in Dean's voice, "Give me your best shot, baby." He smiled again, letting Dean roll him over. Excitement was boiling beneath his skin, he hardly knew what to do with it. His eyes followed Dean as he slowly lowered himself over Cas' body, he licked his lips eagerly awaiting the next moments. It'd been a while since he'd done anything, or at least it felt like a long time. It had probably been less than a week, though the time before the zombie outbreak seemed like a distant memory now.

Firmly gripping the base of Castiel's cock, Dean slowly slid his lips over Cas' sensitive head, Dean's tongue prodding back the protective foreskin. Slowly at first, Dean began stroking Cas' excited member, his head bobbing with the motions. Dean had plenty of experience in pleasing his partner, and the many little tricks he knew he hoped to implement. His goal was to not only blow Cas, but to blow his mind as well.

Cas groaned softly when he felt Dean's lips close around his aching erection, his breathing practically coming in hiccups as Dean's tongue played around with his foreskin, flicking over the most sensitive part of him. He felt the gentle strokes of Dean's hand gripped around the base of his shaft, that combined with the continuous molestation of his head brought his climax in much faster than he thought it would. Dean knew tricks to getting men off, he'd been doing it for a while now. Cas could tell immediately, he'd never felt a blow job more skilfully executed.

It wasn't long, after the occasional deep throat and plentitude of attention to the more sensitive tip, before Dean could taste the slightly bitter pre-cum forming. It wouldn't be long now. Dean picked up the pace, tightening his grip and inflicting excitatory amounts of pain to offset the pleasure -Dean had a hunch that Cas wouldn't mind.

Cas pressed his head against the pillow, biting his bottom lip while trying to hold back the orgasm. It felt so good he didn't want it to end, though he barely stood a chance against Dean's experienced tongue. The new added pressure caused a slow rising in his back, his hands grasped helplessly for something to hold on to. The repeated additions of pain proved more than he was ready for, he enjoyed them but they ruined his plan to hold off his orgasm. He moaned loudly, calling Dean's name as he felt the hot rush of fluids escape him.

Castiel took a deep breath, his back slowly returning to a relaxed position. He rolled his head to look down at Dean again and smiled, "Baby you are a pro," he ran his hand through his hair and laughed a little, "I've never had a partner as skilled as you, holy shit." He paused and looked back at Dean; the whole thing had been amazing so far. Cas wanted to make it perfect. "I want you to take top first."

He sat up to look at Dean better, "Don't get me wrong, I want to fuck you so bad right now, but I want you to know that we're equals in this first, okay?"

Dean was grinning ear to ear when he rose again to look at Castiel. The man had evidently enjoyed himself quite thoroughly. The moans and ragged breathing were music to Dean's ears. But when Cas called out his name... Dean melted inside. It was the most exhilarating experience he'd had. Hell, Dean would almost thank Jake for all that wasted time -it built up this moment to something greater than it probably ever could have been. Or maybe not.

"Top 'first'?" Dean asked coyly. Apparently he was going to get some action out of Castiel, but to take top? First? What sort of way was that to treat a boyfriend? Dean most certainly couldn't remember being treated as human, let alone equal. He smiled, feeling respected and appreciated. "Alright, you asked for it. But you had better have it in you to get me back, you hear?"

Dean moved up, planting kisses along Castiel's torso as he rose, finally kissing him again on the lips. Making love to this soldier was the best decision of his life, and Dean only wished it could last forever. He lay his body back over Castiel's, pressing their chests together just to feel the warmth between them a little more. Readjusting, Dean positioned himself and pushed forward, the head of his cock pushing up against Castiel's ass. Almost hesitating, Dean reminded himself that he was allowed, that Castiel had asked for this. It would've been nice to have some lube, but Dean knew from experience that even the anus moistens with time, not to mention Dean was still slick with sweat and his own mess. Dean pushed forward, his cock slipping into Castiel slowly, gently.

Cas just grinned, Dean agreed to take him. "Of course I'll have it in me, babe," he leaned up to meet Dean's lips. His eyes drifting down toward Dean's dick where it pressed against his anal passage. He moaned as he felt Dean's sticky, moist cock slide into him, pushing past his already agitated nerves. He rolled his head back and pressed into the pillows again, "Ah yes..." he groaned, "Just like that.. ah" his eyes fluttered open and he looked up at Dean. The expression on his boyfriend's face told him that what he'd done was a good thing.

"God, you feel so good. Fuck Cas, why didn't I meet you sooner?" Dean's words came through exasperated gasps, his eyes rolling back in their sockets from the pleasure. It'd been so long since he'd felt the inside of another man, Dean wasn't sure if his stamina was up to par. Fighting off his second orgasm was the best he could to do to please Cas.

His smile was hard to shake as he watched Dean struggle to hold himself back, "I don't know why you didn't meet me sooner," he groaned again as his pleasure increased.

"Holy shit Dean..." his back arched again, "Oh god! Dean! Ah!" He came before Dean did, his semen splattering across both their chests. He hadn't taken it up the ass in such a long time, that cream he'd given Dean a few days ago was fairly old already. He relaxed most of his muscles except the ones in his anus, still wanting to get Dean off (though he doubted that he'd have any problem regardless).

Dean found that he just wasn't up to the task of making it last. Dean shuddered with the shocking force of his orgasm. His own fluids came pouring out of him, planting deep into Cas' anal passage. Dean tried to put his finger on it, but something didn't feel right. It felt like all kinds of right, but somehow it felt like something was horribly wrong.

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><p>"Oh that's just great," Chuck moaned again, for the thousandth time that hour. "You want to know where the infected civilian is?" He remarked sarcastically, "He's halfway across the country in some isolated motel, fucking the shit out of an uncooperative, AWOL soldier! That's where!"<p>

Ever since freeing them from their bondage, which Bella had to do alone, because Chuck was a useless whimp of a scientist, the man hadn't stopped complaining or whining about something. "Would you just -wait." Bella turned around and looked at Chuck. "What did you say they would be doing?"

"Perv. You just want me to go on about random gay sex details? What's wrong with you?"

Bella slapped Chuck across the face, "If you would stop being so dramatic about every little thing, you wouldn't get slapped so often. You don't think that they would actually... do it... do you? Do you have any idea what that means?"

"I'm the scientist! Of course I don't know what that means, no one tells me anything!" Chuck threw his hand up in the air, evidently not listening to a thing Bella had said.

"Idiot! Why do you think it was so important to retrieve the infected civilian? He's still toxic! It's no longer airborne, it's lying in his body. In his tears, blood, and semen. Anything he bleeds on will die, and it will only take a matter of minutes for it to happen. The virus can permeate any surface, so there doesn't even have to be an open wound. From there, it's a short trip to the bloodstream and every major organ. If those idiots had just been a little more naive, I could have saved their lives."

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><p>And then it hit him, Dean came and it splashed up inside his anal passage. It was warm at first and he smiled, his body fully relaxing. Suddenly he felt something odd inside him, the semen felt like it was crawling further into him. He thought maybe it was his imagination, he was on his back after all, maybe it was just sliding upward. But then he felt a burning sensation all along where the cum had hit him. His face scrunched a little, he tried to convince himself it was nothing but it the burning didn't stop, it only worsened.<p>

"Ah..." he winced, trying to keep his mouth shut. The pain started increasing more rapidly and he felt it spreading up his body and into his organs.

Dean lay on Cas' chest, not really caring about the sticky mess. He heard Cas wince the first time. Dean lifted his head and looked at the soldier laying beneath him -those didn't sound like happy noises, not anymore. "Cas?" Dean asked, the single syllable presenting several questions.

"Oh... god Dean..." Cas clutched at Dean's back, his boyfriend still on top of him, "Help, something's wrong!"

Dean felt Castiel's fingers dig into his back as his boyfriend let out an agonizing scream. "Something's wrong?" Dean echoed, panic growing in his voice. He felt something was wrong before, he knew it was off. But he hadn't said anything. Now what was happening? Whatever it was, Cas couldn't take it. And that fact scared Dean more than a little.

Cas felt the burning reach his heart and for a moment it stopped, but only a moment. It burst out through his blood system in seconds, reaching every orifice of his body. "AAAAHHH!" He tried to recoiled into himself but his body stopped responding the way he wanted it to. He started to twitch when he tried to move but that was all he could do, his eyes squeezed shut as the pain worsened.

"Cas? What can I do? Are you-" Dean recoiled quickly when Castiel full on screamed in pain. Dean froze, not knowing what to do, scared that it was his fault. He tried to hold Cas but the man burst into seizures and convulsive fits. Dean started to tear up, "No, no," he whimpered, trying his hardest to protest cruel fate.

"DEAN!" Cas cried, tears streamed down his face and started changing colour. From clear to murky grey in seconds.

Dean would never forget the sound of Castiel screaming his name in a desperate attempt to live. Despite the twitching and general lack of control Cas had over his body, he was still able to call Dean's name. It sounded pained and desperate; Dean thought it sounded like it demanded an explanation. "Why did you do this to me, Dean? I thought we were going to stay together? I came to save you, and this is how you repay me?"

Sam sat up from his bed, "What's going on!" he looked at Cas and saw that the soldier's skin had paled to a sickly white. "Cas!" Sam ran to the bedside, ignoring the position the two were in.

"CAS!" Dean screamed back at him, crying now as well. It was too much to bear, that Castiel had to suffer like this. Dean desperately wanted him to be ok, wanted the twitching and the pain to stop. Tears were streaming from Dean's eyes as he took in the sight of just how badly he'd destroyed Castiel. The soldier's tears had run thick and murky grey, and some sort of sickly black bile oozed from his mouth.

Cas' entire body convulsed and suddenly he lie still. His eyes slowly opened as a dark liquid dripped from his mouth and he looked up at Dean, but he couldn't speak. The light slowly faded from his blue eyes.

"Cas, please! It'll be ok, promise me it'll be ok? Cas!" Dean shook with dread over the upcoming seconds. Castiel shook violently, possibly a seizure from the toxins reaching his brain. Dean looked hard at those perfect blue eyes for the remaining seconds of life that lit them up. Castiel never said another word to him, and he slipped away from the world.

"CAS!" Dean shook him, only to cause the oozing black substance to fall from Castiel's dead mouth with a thick splat on the bed sheets. "Sam," Dean choked on his words, wanting nothing more than to scream and cry, to lay down with Cas and never get up. "Sammy, I killed him. I didn't know that I'd... He's gone."

Sam stared in horror, not knowing what to say to his brother.

Dean slowly pulled out of Cas, not that a corpse particularly minded how rough your exit was. Pulling out allowed for the release of Castiel's corroded insides, falling out onto the covers in thick, bloody chunks. Dean turned away, not able to look at the mess that was only seconds ago, the best thing in his life.

"Sam, what do I do?" Stricken with grief, Dean turned to the only other person in the world who was worth continuing for. "I didn't even say it... He was nothing but nice, and caring," Dean sniffled, trying hard to be able to speak, "and I know he would've said the same... Sam, Castiel is... Cas is dead. I love him, and he's dead." Dean shrunk back in the bed, away from Castiel's lifeless body. Wrapping the covers around himself, Dean looked back at Sam. "I killed him, Sam. I'm a monster, just look at me! Look at what I can do!"

Dean's vision started to take on tunnel-like qualities as he searched Sam for answers. The world seemed to stretch out behind his brother for miles. Or could you measure physical distance in years? At this moment, it seemed like a better description. Dean put a hand to his head to steady himself. Round two of "something's not right."

"Sam..." Dean looked around the room, everything seemed to be twisting and turning, the colors melding together into incomprehensible shades. And suddenly Dean was falling. The colors of the motel room shattered into fragments of sparkling glass. Pieces floated by, up, and away as the world fell to black. And Dean continued falling with it.

* * *

><p>"Hey, your burger's ready."<p>

Dean's head snapped up at attention. "My what?"

"Bacon. Cheese. Burger. God, I hate the night shift." The Charlie's Diner server left the plate in front of Dean on the counter and walked back into the kitchen.

Dean spun to his right, eager to see if there was a soldier sitting next to him, he found no one. Dean sighed heavily and put his head back down on the counter top. He heard a truck pull up, sounded like a Chevy. Dean sat up slowly and looked out the larger diner windows to find an innocent looking, blue eyed soldier climbing out of the driver door.

-Fin

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><p><em><strong>Author's Note (Zafona):<strong>__** Alrighty there it is! Story finished, sad ending I know lol Please review :) Even if you read this months after it's up, I still love reading the reviews XD**_

_**Secondary Author's Note (Touta Matsuda)**__**: Hi, I've co-authored two stories with Zafona now, and I do have a story of my own going on. It's called "My Guardian Angel" and it is a fic between Dean and Castiel. Please check it out. **_


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